New Horizon
by oriontic
Summary: It has been thirty year's since the Vaygr war. Whilst the Galaxy remains a dangerous place, a new discovery has been found, one that will either unite the Galaxy in peace, or plunge it back into war.
1. Chapter 1

**I own neither the Mass Effect universe nor the Homeworld Universe, both of which are the properties of their respective creators.**

**Just a quick little note as well, please do not refrain from pointing out mistakes or flaws in this story, as it is mostly an exercise to practice my story writing skills. Aslong as you point out where the mistake is and what it is, I will fix it in time. Cheers in advance.**

**And I know I dropped the little quote thing at the beginning of chapters, please stop messaging me to tell me, I know!  
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><p><em>"Thank you Kuun-Lan, 300,000 Refugee's owe you their lives."<em>

_"Where are you're escorts?"_

_"Unknown. We received a distress call from one of our heavy cruisers that had been missing for days. Our escorts went to their aid and radioed that they had the cruiser in visual range... that was the last we heard from them."_

_Communications exchange between the Kuun-Lan mining ship and Imperial Taiidan refugee ships. 15 years after Hiigaran Landfall. (15 AHL)_

**Thirty years after the Vaygr War (130 AHL)**

**Hiigaran Republic, Outer Colonies, Haaran Asteroid Belt**

**Hiigaran Navy **_**Broadsword**_**-class Battlecruiser**_** Price of Freedom**_

"Hard starboard!"

"Hard starboard!" The Navigator acknowledged, throwing the 980 metre long battlecruiser _Price of Freedom _into a hull twistingly sharp turn; a turn so sharp it threatened to yank several of the command crew out of their workstations due too sheer force alone. Admiral Rahn Elso gripped the arms of his command chair as the view outside swirled, the stars and rocks outside the bridge tilting before him. An alarm sounded somewhere towards the rear of the bridge as the forces generated by the turn pushed the hull to its limit. The emergency turn did its job though, throwing off the aim of the Vaygr gunners aboard the enemy battlecruiser. Two fat, crimson plasma bolts raced past the ships hull, whilst a third slammed against his ship's shields.

Ah, shields. Kiith S'jet had studied Progenitor shielding for a long time, studying the few half-intact keepers and movers salvaged from the Progenitor graveyards that were sprinkled across the galaxy, trying to understand how it worked, how it could be used. Fifteen years. Thats how long it had taken the greatest minds in the newly established Hiigaran Republic to reverse engineer the progenitor tech, scale it's power requirements down to practical levels, and convert it to work with Hiigaran technology. The result? Easily craftable shield generators that increased ship survival rates massively. S'jets invention eclipsed Kiith Naabals attempt: using electronic pulses to trick missiles into detonating early as well as dissipating flak and low calibre burst gun fire.

Sadly, everyone had shields now. Some had reverse engineered them from the first Hiigaran vessels that mounted them. Others acquired them from... less reputable sources. Sometimes Rahn forgot Vaygr and Imperial vessels now mounted shields, a fact he was brutally reminded of as yet _another _salvo from his flagships heavy guns simply clattered against the enemy battlecruisers shields, causing them to briefly flare into sight.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Admiral Rahn yearned for the 'good old days' as many older officers were beginning to call them. The days before Kiith S'jets radical invention. The days when fleet engagements were decided quickly and brutally, where superior numbers and better tactic's spelled doom for you're opponent. It wasn't the extra survivability that the shields provided, oh no! he loved that. It was the fact that shields allowed enemy forces more time to retreat, regroup or recover, owing to the fact that vessels no longer fell as quickly in battle. Commanders had more time to rally their ships. Surprise attacks quickly lost their momentum, etcetera, etcetera.

As it were, the 14th rear guard tactical fleet had been skirmishing with this particular Vaygr crusade for almost a week. The week had mostly been spent engaging small enemy strike groups that had broken off from the main force to attack civilian transports, outposts or resourcing operations, all whilst the 14th had simultaniously been hunting for the main Vaygr force.

Thankfully the Vaygr Warlord leading this particular crusade did not appear to be a fan of patience nor tactics. After only staging three large raids and a dozen smaller ones, the enemy commander saved the 14th the effort of searching for him and finally showed face in the Haaran asteroid belt: a sparse but vast asteroid field that split the lower eastern Hiigaran colonies off from the Vaygr Reaches. If Rahn had been the enemy commander he would have staged several raids at the same time, stretching the Hiigaran forces before committing his heaviest warships to attacking the 14th fleet's flagship. Wipeout the chain of command, wipeout the fleet. In most cases anyway.

The Vaygr raids were not entirely ineffective though. The _Kharis Man'ell_ -sister ship to the _Kharis Pat'ell _and one of the 14th's three _Broadsword_-class battlecruisers (excluding his flagship)- had been deliberately targetted by a Vaygr cruiser squadron whilst on patrol. A wolfpack of Vaygr cruisers -led by one of their Heavy cruiser's no less- versus a single patrolling battlecruiser and a harem of escorting frigates... not good odds, even under the best of circumstances.

Even though the _Kharis Man'ell_ had fought valiantly under her Captains command, she did not survive the enemy ambush.

The damage inflicted upon her hull had been extensive. Massive gouges had been ripped from her vaguely swordshaped form. Her forward dorsal turret had exploded, blasting the pronged front into an unrecognizable tangled mess of warped metal. That damage paled in comparison to what had happened to the ships drives and engineering section. The majority of the ships aft thrusters had been torn off or mangled by heavy mass driver rounds, whilst a gaping hole in the ships armour allowed a glimpse of the battlecruisers smashed central and starboard fusion reactor's. Most of this damage had been inflicted courtesy of the Vaygr Heavy cruiser. The_ Kharis Man'ell _was a total lose. A painful lose. Whilst it would only take a week -at most- to replace her, the problem would be getting access to Kiith Naabal's shipyards, not to mention replacing her battle-hardened crew...

Rahn had redistributed the _Kharis Man'ells _cruiser and destroyer escorts amongst the remaining two battlecruisers. A stopgap measure that added a bit more firepower to each of the remaining cruiser groups. The _Kharis Pat'ells_ commander -a close friend of the _Kharis Man'ells _now deceased commander- sought vengeance, vowing to destroy any Vaygr vessel that was foolish enough to cross his path.

Upon the 14th's arrival on the outskirts of Haaran, Rahn had executed a short ranged tactical hyperspace jump, positioning his force to within 10,000 kilometres of the detected enemy formation. Nothing Rahn knew of could engage at 10,000 kilometers, other than maybe _Sajuuk_ itself, though it would be a dark day if he ever had to fight that monster in battle...

The two fleets had immediately begun to accelerate to engage though it was not until they closed to around 7,000 kilometers that the heaviest guns in the fleet begun to open up. The massive _arbiter _guns and ion cannons aboard the battlecruisers, and to a lesser extent the smaller guns mounted upon cruisers, began thundering away at the Vaygr formation, who returned in kind with their own barrage of kinetic slugs and long range missiles. Three Vaygr battlecruisers lurked towards the rear of the enemy formation, liberally firing their spinally mounted, triple shot _Trinity_ plasma cannon arrays at their Hiigaran enemies, the crimson bolts blasting knocking out shields and melting through armour with alarming ease.

At around 5000 kilometers the frigates and destroyers could add their weight to the fight. Shorter ranged missiles came into play as well, with swarms of the damned things launched by both sides. By this point kinetic fire was being happily sprayed back and forth between the opposing fleets. Hull armour cracked and hulls splintered. Ion cannon's speared through the darkness, lancing through shields and boiling through hull plating. Ships on both sides began to fall, cruisers, destroyers and frigates torn apart by terrifying amounts of firepower.

Both fleets held formation until around 3000 kilometers. At that point, the massive coordinated advance and the barrages between the two opposing forces broke down into a brawl. Cruiser's broke formation and dueled with each other: either one on one, or in small formations supported by other craft. Destroyers supported their larger cruiser brethren: either by forming small packs to help smash enemy cruisers, or by singularly hunting down the enemy frigates that stabbed at their flanks. Assualt frigates teamed together in wolfpacks, picking on lone destroyers or targetting wounded cruisers.

In amongst the chaos of battle flew the strike craft. Interceptor pilots fought running battles amongst the diving and twisting capital ships, firing autocannons, burst guns or missiles at each other; throwing their craft into crazy spins or rolls in an attempt to shake off enemy fire; firing off countermeasures; shouting over the comm's in glee as they blasted apart yet another enemy fighter, or in dread as they were torn apart by point defence guns or assualt craft fire.

Bomber squadrons had their fun as well, their hulking forms diving in amongst the carnage, hunting for weakened targets or unescorted cruisers, before swooping in to blow chunks out of said targets with plasma weaponry and anti-capital missiles. Gunship corvette's -working either alone or in pairs- hunted Vaygr fighter squadrons, tearing them apart with a barrage of accurate, rapid fire mass driver slugs, whilst also avoiding flights of Vaygr Missile Corvette's who sought to destroy them with strems of concussion missiles.

The chaos -all of it- was displayed on the spherical, blue, holographic command model tactical display in the centre of the bridge: though the images were much simpler and less dramatic than the reality. Gone were the sleek almost elegant Hiigaran vessels and far more rugged, aggressive look of the Vaygr designs. Instead each sides craft were reduced to red or green icons, with different shapes representing different ship class. Weapons fire was meerly shown by streams of little yellow dots that shot back and forth between the two sides. On the tactical screen, vessels didn't die in a glorious ball of nuclear fire, or drop out of battle, hulls blasted apart trailing smoke, bodies and debris...

No, they simply winked off with a beep.

Rahn had been content to keep his battlecruisers out of the massive furball where they'd have been torn apart at such close range. Instead, he elected to have them provide long range fire-support, cutting down larger Vaygr vessels with their heavy guns or ion beams when they had a clear shot. All except one though. The _Kharis Pat'ell _and her escorts had engaged in a furious duel with one of the opposing Vaygr battlecruisers and its own escorts. The two massive vessels were now slugging away at each other with their devastating weapons as they locked in a fight to the death.

It was then -whilst Rahn's full attention had been fixed on observing the battle- that one of the enemies other battlecruiser's had taken a shine for the 14th fleets flagship.

"Sajuuk, damn that bastard." Rahn muttered in annoyance as yet another of the _Price of Freedom's _salvo's slammed against the hostile battlecruisers shields. The Vaygr vessel merely shrugged off the mass driver rounds. Shield strength scaled with generator size and power. Whilst a frigate sized generator could only withstand a handful of heavy kinetic rounds at the most, the shields wielded by a battlecruiser could easily withstand numerous barrages from capital grade guns. The enemy warship continued to bear down on the 14th fleets flagship, fusion missiles streaming from it's spinally mounted launcher.

"Fire our missiles, damn it!" Rahn shouted. The weapons operator did as commanded, hands dancing across his console as he prepped the _Price of Freedom's _secondary light missile pods. A swarm of concussion missiles erupted from the launchers dotted across the Hiigaran warships hull but a moment later. The small missiles -trailing white propellant- streaked towards the enemy capital ship, closing the relatively short distance in no time. Red point defence lasers flashed along the Vaygr battlecruisers hull, striking down some of the Hiigaran missiles, but nowhere near all of them. Twenty or so missiles detonated against the enemies shields, causing them to ripple under the concussive force, the missiles further draining the enemy shields.

Rahn blinked his eye's shut for a moment as his ship shook under the impact of the more powerful Vaygr missiles. Rahn really wished his ship had more point defence guns. As it were, six of the ten heavy missiles fired at his ship had struck home, each one detonating with kilotons of explosive force, causing the shields to drop dangerously below thirty-percent charge.

The tactical display chirped a warning as the Admiral opened his eye's; a new contact had slid out from the safety of a thick dust cloud 500 or so kilometers away. A single Vaygr cruiser was now bearing down on his flank, missiles already streaming from the medium fusion launcher mounted alone it's spine.

"Sneaky, very sneaky." The Admiral muttered, grinning as he ordered a pair of idle destroyers to intercept the enemy vessel. The destroyers immediately vectored towards the Vaygr cruiser and engaged, missiles and mass driver rounds dancing between the two sides.

The bridge shook once more as another barrage of missiles from the Vaygr battlecruiser struck the Hiigaran flagship. The sheer explosive power generated by the missiles actually shunted the Hiigaran battlecruiser slightly off course before it's manuevering thrusters corrected the error. The _Price of Freedom's_ shields flared, threatened to collapse... but held. Just. There was no way they would withstand another barrage.

Rahn tapped an icon on the tactical display as his curiosity suddenly overcame his sensibility. The battle faded away at the new command only to be replaced by a 3D scan of the battlecruiser his ship was currently engaging. The vessels long hull -with its sharp lines, aggressive shape and narrow, vertically tall profile- was painted differently from the other two Vaygr battlecruisers. The usual Black and white striped hull paint had been adorned with the symbols and markings of one of the more influential Vaygr clans, clearly telling that its Captain belonged to said clan. On top of the overcomplicated paint scheme, the hull had also been slightly reinforced (by atleast half a metre at its thickest point), plus the communications array had been heavily modified to accomodate command and control equipment and antennae.

"That will be their command ship then." Rahn muttered the conclusion to himself. It was obvious really, such modifications would never have been allowed on a mere rank-and-file, fresh from the shipyard battlecruiser. This was the command ship of a fleet commander.

Without another moments thought, Rahn turned and pointed almost accusingly at the weaponry officer.

"Ready all -and I mean _all_- guns to fire. Target the armour around their heavy missile battery. Lets give them a taste of their own medicine."

The crew did as commanded. Every weapon -from close in guns too short range missiles and pulsar lasers- was prepared. Anything that had the range was readied and aimed at the enemies missile battery. One by one, predatory grins appeared on the faces of the Hiigaran weapons crews tending to the battlecruiser as they realised what their commander was ordering. If it worked, it would result in the total destruction of the enemy Flagship. It was a daring move.

"Fire." Rahn ordered with a wave of his hand. The Gunnery officer tapped a single icon on his consoles screen, sending an automated instant message to each of the weapon crews. One icon, that was all it took to unleash the full wrath of the _Price of Freedoms _guns.

The _Price of Freedom's Arbiter _guns thundered, firing mass driver slugs at the enemy warship with unnerving speed and accuracy at ranges as a close as this. The Vaygr shields snapped and buckled under the bombardment before they crackled and flashed out of existance. An instant later two duel-beamed ion streams lanced through the Vaygr ships flanks, boiling away meters of ultra dense alloy in mere seconds. The beams stabbed into the internal hull underneath; melting through metal, electronics and crewmen alike. Disapointingly, the beams stopped a few meters short of the missile tubes, though they left a horrific moltern crater in the side of the enemy flagship. Concussion missiles detonated inside the hull breach moments later, despite the best efforts of Vaygr point defence lasers. The resulting explosion sent half-melted armour splattering out into space, followed by debris and mangled bodies of the former crew. A secondary explosion erupted from the depths of the Vaygr vessel as the fusion missiles detonated in their tubes, creating a tremendous, blinding ball of fire that violently snapped the long vessel in two as it consumed the Battlecruiser's entire missile battery, before rising up and pulverising the bridge, which shattered, sending shards of super-tough "glass" and metal spiralling out into the depths of space.

Rahn watched the two halfs of the enemy command ship drift apart, the stern section trailing flame and smoke that quickly fizzled out as it burned through the last of the ships artificial oxygen supplies. Rahn grinned to himself. The stupid bastard never saw it coming. Served him right for picking a fight with Rahn's fleet. He continued grinning, even as a pitiful number of lifepods fired feebly from the decimated vessels forward section.

There was something gratifiying watching an enemy force break as it realised it was suddenly leaderless. In Rahns experience, one of two things happened. Either a subordinate tried to take command, or the enemy panicked and retreated. This particular Vaygr crusade chose the latter.

The untouched Vaygr Battlecruiser lurking at the very rear of the Vaygr formation, seeing it's command vessel destroyed, and obviously not wishing to follow it, suddenly spun on it's axis and activated it's jumpdrive, tearing open a hyperspace window and vanishing in a wink of light. The other Battlecruiser, it's hull armour battered and cratered from combat, tried to jump, it's engine's surging with power, only to have them cut through by the _Kharis Pat'ells _ion beams just as they charged their jumpdrive. The mighty Vaygr warship floundered, rolling onto it's side as it lost power. The cruiser's Captain was obviously a smart man, as he immediately transmitted a surrender request to the _Kharis Pat'ell_.

Rahn watched smugly as more and more Vaygr vessels dropped what they were doing and fled, abandoning their duels with the remaining Hiigaran vessels. More and more vessels disappeared from the Tactical display, the Vaygr number's thinning until only a half disabled cruiser was left. And a flock of hapless assualt craft that had been abandoned by their carrier, unlucky bastards.

Rahn stared at the tactical display, a wide grin plastered over his aged face. Whilst Rahn had expected the enemy to flee, he hadn't expected the all out rout that had just taken place. Still, more reason to feel good about himself, though it did raise question's about the Vaygr's wavering ability to fight. Rahn couldn't blame them though.

Vaygr forces still loyal to Makaan, or atleast the idea of a united Vaygr nation, were fighting an internal civil war against the many Vaygr clans that were breaking off from their control. Combined with Imperial Taiidani raids on their northern territories, the Loyalists were stretched thin and often demoralised, to the point where they fled as soon as they started taking noticable casualties.

The Hiigaran vessels floated silently amongst the remains, stunned by the sudden victory. Then it came, a chorus of cheers that erupted from an assualt frigate, a chorus that grew in size as more and more ship crews added their voice to the applause. Captains laughed and chatted across the fleet wide comm channels, offering their thanks or congratulations for help in the battle, or sharing jokes at the expense of deceased Vaygr Captains.

"Get me fleet wide." Rahn ordered, pointing at his communications officer, raising his voice so that he would be heard. The bridge crew were cheering, happily chatting amongst themselves; slapping each others backs; shaking hands; punching the air in triumph. The young communications officer halted his celebration and rushed back to his console, quickly carrying out the Admirals orders, still smiling like a maniac whilst he patched the Admiral through to the rest of the fleet.

"Listen up 14th." The Cheering immediately died away, replaced by a calm silence as the rest of the fleet listened to their commanding officer. Rahn savoured the silence for a moment before continuing.

"You did a hell of a job today people. Even the warriors of Kiith Soban would have been proud of how hard you fought today. Thanks to you're actions, the Eastern Colonies can sleep safely once more, knowing that 14th have got their backs."

He paused, wondering how long it would be until another rouge Vaygr crusade or vengeful Imperial fleet decided that it would be fun to raid the Eastern Colonies...

Rahn dispelled the thought. He just fought the enemy whenever and wherever they decided to reappear, no matter the reason for their appearance.

"All ships, form on my Flag." Rahn ordered after a moments thought. "Plot course for _Port Yarmshir_, It's time we got a well deserved break."

Rahn smiled as both his bridge and the comm channels erupted with whoops and cheers. It had been a good few months since the 14th had gotten a break from frontline combat. The 14th were due a rest anyway, their duties scheduled to be relieved by the 13th tactical fleet. Taking the leave a little early would also do the men some good, as well as allowing Rahn to replace the 14th's lost ships... and crew.

Rahn's mood suddenly soured. He'd have to file a casualty report on this latest action. Just by glancing at the tactical display, which clearly showed the hulks of dozens of smashed Hiigaran ships, he knew the casualties were easily in the hundreds. This would be the 14th's largest single lose of life in almost two years.

Rahn turned his eye on the cheering figure's of the command crew. In truth, Rahn barely knew any of their names, let alone anything personal about them. In his experience, it was better if he didn't know any of them... it made it easier to cope of he ever lost them.

With a sigh, the aged Captain turned to leave the bridge and it's ecstatic crew members behind, not before downloading the files of two of his most competent cruiser Captain's however.

He would need those...

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><p><em>"Children of Hiigara... you are beaten. This sector is now under my control. Stand down and prepare for Vaygr occupation. I have come to claim what is mine. Return the second core, and I will spare your homeworld."<em>

_Makaan's broadcast too Hiigara during the Vaygr War, 100 years after Hiigaran Landfall (100 AHL)_

**Thirty years after the Vaygr War (130 AHL)**

**Hiigaran Republic, Outer Colonies, **_**Port Yarmshir**_

_Port Yarmshir _ was easily the largest Space Station in the OuterColonies. A heavily armoured dome, four kilometres in diameter and lined with docking arms and hangars, the station hung in high orbit over a small, rocky moon: the moon itself home to a number of civil outposts and mining operations. _Yarmshir_ was one of a dozen so called "free-stations" that had sprung up amongst the fringe Hiigaran colonies in the wake of the Vaygr war. The stations were neutral, were run by their own independent governments, had their own small defence forces and refrained from getting involved in larger galactic matters. Within their armoured domes resided entire spacebourne, self-dependent cities that offered a needed port in the storm for beleagured travellers, merchants and even soldiers to rest and trade, regardless of race or nationality. The Outer Colonies had always been dangerous. Bordering both Vaygr and Imperial space, the Fringe Colonies were often raided or attacked by Vaygr or Imperial raiders. Therefore, stations like _Port Yarmshir_ were welcomed additions to such a heartless areas of space. _Yarmshir_ itself was remarkable. The largest of all the stations, _Yarmshir_ was renowned for its multicultural populace, its developed nightlife and its great markets. It was actually a recommended place for vacation.

And it was here that Captain Tillus Velaan found himself. Right in the centre of _Yarmshir's_ busiest market. And boy, was he enjoying himself.

The market alone was a most impressive spectacle. Tillus had never experienced such a varied and vibrant marketplace. Stalls and small shops littered the market square, each one clashing with the other as colourful styles and exotic custom's mixed, their equally vibrant vendors doing their best to draw in customers from the surging crowds. Traders from the furthest corners of the Galaxy came to Yarmshir, each as eager to sell their goods as the next. Earlier, a smiling man in a mish mash of clashing colours had brought Tillus over to his stall, before trying to sell the officer several antique weapons. The slightly rounded man had pushed a bulky pistol into Tillus' hands, claiming that the Young Captain wouldn't find a better deal in the Galaxy... It was an impressive claim, considering another vendor was selling the exact same items meer metres away. The stall-owners price's were equally impressive...

Since then, Tillus had returned to happily browsing the many varied stalls, soaking in the culture and atmosphere, whilst keeping away from the more _zealous_ of vendors, hoping to avoid a repeat of his encounter with the antique's vendor...

Tillus moved with the crowd, a crowd that was as vibrant as the market around them. Basic, single coloured overalls or simple fabric jumpers and coats mixed with stained engineering suits, battered flight suits or the odd expensive, sharp suit's or pompous, ruffled dresses of the more wealthier of the stations visitors . Now and again, Tillus would catch a glimpse of the station's security guards; rent-a-thug's in brown flak jackets with armoured chest plates wielding batons and stun guns. Tillus tended too shimmy away from the security patrols; he'd had heard more than one story about Yarmshir's security and their love of picking fights with off duty members of the Hiigaran Navy...

Tillus' travels brought him out into the open centre of the market, a circular area dominated by small food stalls on all sides, each one selling a variety of cooked foods, meats and curries from every corner of the galaxy. Overhead, one could catch a glimpse of the many shuttles and small airborne taxi's as they zipped back and forth across the station. Yarmshir's great dome was hollow, held up by four immensely strong, massive, pillar-like towers that also doubled as residental dwellings. At the centre of the dome was a huge, disc-shaped light that cast out a soft, yellowish glow. This light - which was powered by it's very own fusion reactor- provided twenty-four hour lighting for the whole city.

Tillus' stomach growled impatiently, spurred into action by the powerful aroma's of grilled meats and exotic spices that were currently assualting the tanned, black haired officer's sense's. With a shrug, Tillus gave into his urge's and began hunting for something to eat, his eye's skipping over the many different stalls, eyeing the foods on offer as well as judging the ques and, of course, the prices.

He waddled past a hooded preacher, his white robes spotless and decorated with ornate Progenitor symbols. The man was proclaiming the beginning of the End Times, that Sajuuk -he who's hand shapes what is- would rise up and destroy all those whom he deemed unworthy. Complete nosense as far as he was concerned, but he wasn't one for judging the beliefs of other people.

Tillus found himself hovering over one of the more ramshackle food stalls. This one was stocked with an impressive array of oddly shaped fruits, most of which Tillus had never seen nor heard of before. Tillus found his attention drawn to a juicy looking, melon shaped fruit. The thing was the size of his head! Tillus decided he had to buy it, just cause it was so big, it wasn't as if the owner was asking for much anyway... Speaking of the owner, The Elderly gentlemen in-charge of the stall, a thin, bedraggled looking man with a messy, unkept beard, noticing that he had a potential customer, looked up at Tillus expectantly, his sad eye's almost pleading for the Hiigaran Officer to buy something. Tillus' hand slipped slowly towards his trouser pocket, aiming to retreive the cheap, leather wallet he'd picked up on some backwater station during his travels. As he gently slid the wallet out of his pocket, another, smaller hand darted out of nowhere, grabbed the wallet and ripped it out from under the startled Captains hand. Spinning around, Tillus saw the tiny figure of a teenage boy sprinting off into the crowd, Tillus' wallet held triumphantly in his right hand.

"Hey!" Tillus shrieked, instantly giving chase. The Hiigaran Naval Officer pushed himself into a rage fuelled sprint, shoving a young man out of the way as he pursued the tiny pick-pocket. No way was that little rat getting away with Tillus' wallet! Tillus tore past stunned market-goer's, who quickly moved out of his path, least they get knocked flying. The boy was faster though, darting in and out of the crowd, causing people to shriek in surprise or yell in annoyance. Tillus was... not as fit as he should have been. Commanding a warship wasn't exactly a physically taxing positon... Before long, the little, spotty faced thief was gaining ground, darting towards one of the many alleys and side streets that lined the markets edge. If the kid got into one of the alley's it was over. There was no way Tillus was chasing that speedy little freak through the dark, shady alleyway's that littered _Yarmshir's_ rougher area. A glance too his left confirmed how futile his attempts to catch the thief were. A pair of station security guards were racing towards him, baton's drawn. The two armoured idiot's had probably decided it was Tillus attacking the kid, and not the other way around.

Then, just as Tillus began to slow and give up, something spectacular happened.

In a blur of motion, a pair of massive arms darted out from the crowd. The teenage thief yelped as he suddenly found himself suspended almost a foot above the ground.

Tillus grinned as he recognised his saviour. Well, it was hard not to recognise him... Captain Raan Antal was a tank of man, easily distingushable by his bald head and massive frame. Raan's most destinguishing feature however was his left eye, a weighted, glass fake that served as a replacement for his real one, which he'd lost too a knife during a particularly violent brawl.

"I think you'd better give my friend here, Captain Tillus, his wallet back." The Taiidani born man growled. The terrified teenager, faced with this terrifyingly large man, dropped the wallet at once. Tillus, breathing heavily from his prolonged sprinting, quickly grabbed his wallet from ground, glaring at the teenager whilst doing it, quietly cursing his family and his Kiith.

"Here you go officers." Raan chirped politely to the two security guards as they finally burst through the crowd. The two guards eyed Tillus sourly, grudgingly holstering their batons.

"We'll take him from here." The thinest of the two gaurds snorted, roughly grabbing the pickpocket, slapping a pair of binders around his wrists and manhandling him back into the crowd. Raan watched the two guard's depart, a fearsome scowl plastered on his face, before turning to regard Tillus.

"Where have you been?" Raan's accent was incredibly polite, much more polite than most Hiigarans. His accent failed to hide his irritation though. Although Raan didn't look it, he was as young as Tillus, both of whom were only in their late twenties, both of whom were unusually young for Captain's.

"I told you to meet me here, this station can be..." Raan glanced over his shoulder towards the two guards slowly disappearing into the crowds. "...unpleasant. Anyway's, we were meant to be at the Bellaan Bar half an hour ago."

"Sorry, I got a little... side tracked. Couldn't resist the market." Tillus offered. Too Tillus' surprise, Raan's irritation instantly melted away, replaced by a wide, friendly grin that showed off his impossibly white teeth.

"I too was enticed by the great market. Twice I almost ventured over to sample it's fine produce and take in it's many sights and smells." Raan sighed, allowing himself to smile slightly. "It has been a long time since I've been near such a diverse, wonderous marketplace. Maybe we can tour it once we've visited the Bellaan."

Tillus nodded his head in agreement. "I don't know how sober I'll be later, Raan."

"Ah, of course. Trust you to be thinking of nothing other than drinking this early in the evening." Raan grinned in reply. "I believe the Doctors would call you an Alcoholic."

"You're so funny, Raan." Tillus shook his head. "Now, lead me to this Bar before I get bored and wander off again..."

"Aye, lets go."

Raan spun on his heel, leading the way towards one of the side street's that ran off from the market square. Raan easily cleared a path through the tightly packed street. People quickly got out of Raan's way, simply because he looked like he would tear them in half if they didn't. The narrow street was lined with shops that sold trinkets and other assorted pieces of junk and clutter, the kind of worthless, dirt cheap shops one would expect to find away from the main market.

"This bar, whats it like?" Tillus suddenly asked his larger companion, though he kept his eye's on the crowd's infront of him.

"It's... quiet." Ra'an replied curtly. "Out of the way. The drinks are very cheap."

"We could have went to one of the bigger bars you know." Tillus replied. "The one's with dancers, loud music, lots of girls and plenty of exotic booze?"

"No. This is too important." Raan replied. Tillus frowned. What was he on about?

"What's too important?" Tillus asked, coming to an immediate halt, only for an older man too walk straight into his back. Tillus spun around and apologised. The old man shot the Captain a venomous glare, muttering something about 'Young disrespectful bastards'. Tillus waited until the old man shuffled out of earshot before returning his gaze to his friend.

"Tell me what it is Raan, or I'm not going one step further."

Raan sighed in defeat, before shaking his head and shrugging his massive shoulders.

"Fine." He muttered, looking Tillus in the eye. "The Admiral requested that I meet him at the Bellaan, and that I bring you too. He asked me no too tell you, in case you decided against coming..."

"The Admiral, as in, Admiral Rahn?"

"Yes."

"And he told you not to tell me?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Tillus looked at his friend. This was... a shock to say the least. The Admiral had asked for them too meet him, and Tillus doubted it was for a friendly chat and a glass of Whiskey...

"He said that it would be best if you didn't ask questions."

Tillus just stood and shook his head. Why would the Admiral want Raan to keep quiet? Obviously this was something pretty big.

"I don't know much more than that, Tillus." Raan began as Tillus opened his mouth to speak.

Tillus sighed, trying to comprehend what he was getting into. "Fine, Raan. Lead on."

Raan nodded and immediately crossed the street, pushing his way through the crowd. At first, Tillus was wondering where Raan was going, but then he spotted it; a small, neon sign with the word 'Bellaan', written on it, the only indication of the bars existence.

Raan wasted no time, immediately thundering down a set of dimmly lit stairs, clattering into the little queing area at the bottom, Tillus cautiously following behind. A single bouncer stood guard at the entrance to the Bellaan, a massive man almost the size of Raan. Raan fished for something in his trouser pocket, before producing two passcards, which he quickly showed to the doorman.

The muscular bouncer nodded his head towards the door, content with Raan's ID. The single door slid open silently as Raan approached. With Raan leading, the duo entered the bar.

The bar wasn't too bad, nowhere near as bad as Tillus had been expecting from a quiet, out of the way bar. A single, well-lit, circular bar dominated the centre of the room, with dozens of sleek tables and chairs arranged around it in a circular pattern. Several groups of people sat at the tables, though Tillus struggled to make out features in the dim, purple lighting.

Raan tapped Tillus on the shoulder and pointed towards a table near the back of the bar, a table occupied by two figures, though Tillus, yet again, couldn't make them out in the low light. Without a single word, Raan strode across the bar towards the the half hidden table, Tillus following cautiously behind.

It was only as they neared the table could Tillus make out the faces and features of the two figures sat at opposite ends of the table. Admiral Rahn Elso's small stature and apparent frailness hid one of Hiigara's most decorated Admiral's. A veteran of the Vaygr War, Rahn had been commanding cruisers and killing pirates whilst Tillus had still been learning to count. The man was pushing sixty though, his age most prominent in his eye's, and also his thinning grey hair.

The other person was a woman, around the same height as Tillus, thin, long brown hair, ghostly pale skin, her meager form framed by a flowing tan dress with brown highlights. She had the look of a woman who didn't spend much time outside, yet, Tillus couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen her somewhere before...

"Ah, gentlemen!" The Admiral exclaimed as he recognised the two Captains in the dim light. "I was afraid you weren't going to join us."

On instinct, Tillus and Raan snapped off perfect salutes, earning them a fearsome scowl from the Admiral. "You're off-duty, cut the saluting crap."

The two Captain's did as commanded, dropping the salutes, though Tillus was nowhere near at ease. The ghostly woman remained silent, simply studying the two officer's, her pale blue eye's flashing over them as she soaked in every detail.

"I'm assuming you both want to know, _exactly_ why you're here." Rahn began, producing a small whiskey flask and proceeding to pour the contents into a small cup. "So, we'll start from the beginning. This fine young woman here is Alesha Naabal, she is the one who asked me too bring you here tonight."

"Wait, Alesha Naabal, as in, the daughter of Kiith Naabal's new Kiith-sa?" Tillus blurted out the question without thinking, earning him one of the fiercest stares he'd ever seen, courtesy of Admiral Rahn.

Alesha simply smiled.

"The very same." She answered, before looking both of the Captain's in the eye and clasping her hands together, taking in a sharp breath.

"I've asked for both of you, simply because I need your help." She paused, trying to gauge their reactions, before continuing on. "Two days ago, a mercenary frigate under the contract of Kiith Naabal detected an... object, hidden in a dense dust cloud only a days trip from _Port Yarmshir _using sublight engines."

"But why would you be intrested in it?" Tillus asked quickly. Kiith Naabal were the industrial master's of the Hiigaran Republic. Their Shipyards kept the Navy afloat, churning out warships non-stop in order to meet the defence needs of an ever expanding Republic. That was why Tillus was confused. Kiith Naabal, nevermind one of their most esteemed members, shouldn't be out here poking around for relics or derelicts, that responsibility feel upon Kiith S'jet or Navy patrols.

"A good question." She replied, smiling slightly, continuing to stare the two officers down. "My Kiith is... intrested in this vessels origins. From what the Mercenaries would share with us, the craft is definately not of Progenitor design, neither does it match the design patterns of any known nation. I'm planning on taking a science team to investigate, but unfortunately, whilst Kiith Naabal owns a relatively large private fleet, it would take many days for any of our ships to arrive in system, days that I cannot afford to lose."

"So, you're asking the navy for protection instead?"

"Indeed." She smiled, though Tillus had worked out by now that it was not a genuine smile. "You have to understand the kind of boost a discovery like this would give to Kiith Naabal, no, too Hiigara as a whole. Unknown Technology, possibly even Alien, free for the taking. Imagine the secrets it could hold..."

Tillus' eye's widened as he caught on. "Technology that could out do Kiith S'jets last big breakthrough?." The Naabali scientist tilted her head slightly, but did not answer. "This is nothing but an attempt to boost Kiith Naabal's power and influence. A chance for you too get back at Kiith S'jet for pushing Naabal out of the spotlight."

"Hmm." She looked Tillus over. "I'll admit that Kiith S'jet's reverse engineering of Progenitor shielding technology was a... _blow_, to my Kiith. S'jet also gained alot of support in the Daiamid, whilst we lost the support of several smaller Kiith's, tilting the balance further in S'jet's favour. It is a dangerous situation when a single Kiith almost controls the entire Daiamid."

"I'm out if this if it's just a political power grab." Tillus declared, ignoring Alesha's stare. "I'm not putting my ship and my crew at risk just so Kiith Naabal can pick at a derelict in the hopes that they'll find some superweapon, or something to boost their influence."

"Tillus is right." Raan suddenly interjected. "There is no way that I am risking my ship either."

"Captain's, please." Alesha squirmed in her chair and sighed, before producing a small data pad from one of the pocket's in her dress. She'd hoped that she wouldn't have had to play her last card, but the two Captain's had proven harder to convince than she'd expected. She tapped a few icons on the screen, before sliding the datapad across the table for Tillus and Raan to see.

"I'm sure this will be sufficent to change you're mind."

Tillus' eye's bulged as he glanced at the figure's on the tiny screen. This... this was insane. With this much money, he could quit the navy, move too Hiigara, buy a prime piece of land and build a mansion, and still have enough left over to buy himself anything he wanted.

Tillus slowly looked up at the still smiling woman sat infront of him, a woman that knew she'd won.

"I think you... understand now, how important this find could be to Kiith Naabal. We cannot allow a chance like this to go to waste. Kiith S'jet cannot be allowed to rule the Daiamid. I think you'll agree, it's in the best intrest of the Republic as a whole, if they do not."

Tillus let out a muffled huff, whilst Raan just stared dumbfoundly at the tiny screen infront of him. There was no way either of them would turn this kind of money down, and Alesha knew it... but still, Tillus couldn't help but feel... uncomfortable, being forced, more or less, to help Kiith Naabal in their quest for power, trying to unsurp Kiith S'jet.

"Admiral, sir, is this alright with you?" Tillus asked quietly.

"Ofcourse." Admiral Rahn answered, his voice laced with irritation. "Do you think I wasn't offered the same amount as you? There's no way a sane man would turn down a sum that large."

The Admiral shook his head, before grabbing the small glass of whiskey off the table and downing it in one gulp. Alesha watched the Admiral, waiting until he was finished drinking before speaking.

"So I assume everything will be set on your end, Admiral?" She soothed, her massive eye's locked on the Admiral's aged features.

Rahn sat the whiskey glass gently back down on the metal table.

"I'll have the paperwork done and sent off by tommorrow's evening, you can have a loan of these two for as long as you need them, as long as no one hears about our little deal here. The last thing I need is Fleet Intelligence breathing down my neck."

"I have alot of connections, Admiral." She replied. "I'll make sure no one finds out about it, I can assure you of that."

Alesha waited until the Admiral nodded his approval, before setting her eye's upon Tillus and Raan once more.

"I want both of you ready to leave tommorrow morning, eleven O'clock standard time, at the latest." She looked around the table. "Anymore questions?"

No one breathed a word. Instead, Tillus and Raan exchanged nervous glances.

"Very well." She continued, rising to her feet. "Enjoy your evening, Gentlemen."

* * *

><p><em>AN_

_*Edit* Updated some stuff.  
><em>

_Well, hopefully you enjoyed my second attempt at a decent fanfic. Please Review if you have something to say, both praise and Criticism are both welcomed. If you have any questions or don't want to post a review, feel free to PM me, seriously, I don't usually bite...  
><em>

_Also, a little note. Ship-class names for Homeworld 2 vessels, (i.e the 'Broadsword-class' Battlecruisers) are totally made up. Individual ship names will be a mixture of more english sounding names and more exotic names. (Both naming types were present in the Homeworld series, for example the Khar-Selim or Kuun-Lan, but also more normal names such as Kapella or Pride of Hiigara.)_

_On Personal names, only characters directly tied to the Kiith's (i.e Alesha Naabal) will have their Kiith names in their name, normal peep's will have kinda randomised second names, just to make it a little clearer.  
><em>

_Ships also have more significant point defence and secondary weapon systems (More inline with the PDS or TFS mods than vanilla homeworld), just because I always felt that, for having such massive (and cool) designs, Homeworld ships were rather devoid of close in weapons. (Missile defence, anti-fighter guns, that kind of thing)  
><em>

_Oh, and just to clarify for a couple of folk, Port Yarmshir is a 'Free-station' which serves as a trade point and rest stop for multiple races, it's not a Hiigaran station.  
><em>


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Tillus had barely slept. He'd struggled to fall asleep, his mind torn between money and morals. He'd sat awake most of the night, trying to decide what to do. When he'd accepted Alesha's request, it had only really been because of the sheer sum of money she was offering him. That decision flew in the face of everything Tillus knew. He'd been taught from a young age that his duty to Hiigara and his Kiith came before personal gain, after all, they hadn't gotten this far by looking after themselves. Everything the Hiigaran's did was carefully planned, from the opening of a new trade link with another nation to the construction of a new mining outpost, each move was designed to bring maximum gain to the Hiigaran people at minimum cost and risk. Greed was frowned upon and individual wealth was rare, the richest people in Hiigaran society were often the ones that contributed the most.

Tillus had tried to justify his actions. He'd figured that he could give a large portion of the 'payment' to his Kiith, Kiith Paktu. That way he wouldn't feel so bad about accepting it in the first place.

He could abandon the mission, after all, there was nothing stopping him. His payment had yet to be transferred to his account and he'd signed no contract or agreement. There was one problem though. Raan was adamant about assisting the Naabali woman. Raan had immigrated to the Hiigaran Republic's from the Taiidan Republic when he had just completed his schooling. Because of this, Raan lacked both a Kiith and the morals that ever Hiigaran had been taught since they were but a tiny child and had no qualms about being bribed to do Kiith Nabaal's bidding. To Raan, the money would allow him to buy a nice house for his sick mother to live out the remainder of her days, as well as allowing him to leave the Navy, which he was not particularly fond of. Whilst Raan was, arguably, one of the 14th fleet's best cruiser Captains, he'd expressed his distaste for war several times during the time Tillus had known him.

The whole thing was a dilemma if ever he'd seen one, one that he was still contemplating even as he strode through the armoured double door's that opened up onto the Bridge of his cruiser, causing him to frown for a moment as he barely remembered the shuttle ride that had brought him here.

Usually Tillus would have stopped to chat with the numerous officers and specialists that made up his command crew, most of whom he knew by name. However, today he ignored them and headed straight for his command chair in the centre of the bridge, even as the crewmen called out 'Morning, Captain' or 'Gooday, sir.'

Lieutenaunt Commander Kim Haal stood waiting for him, hovering just to left of his chair. Kim, born into Kiith Paktu like Tillus, was a lanky blonde headed man with barely a shred of muscle on him, and was also Tillus' XO. A couple of years older than Tillus, he was none the less both alert and intelligent, and often picked out thing's others missed. Today, he had picked up on the mood of his Commander.

"Something bothering you, sir?" He inquired as Tillus passed him and sat heavily in chair.

"You could say that." Tillus replied, quickly leaning forward to switch on the bridge's holo projector, which whirred to life, bringing up the familiar, blue globe he was used too, an image of everything that his ships sensor's could see.

"Is it about our mission?" Kim continued, crossing his arms. "You don't need to hide it, that Naabali woman told us about it."

Tillus looked up at his XO, part in annoyance, part in relief. Annoyed that Alesha had went behind his back and told his crew, but also relieved that he didn't need to tell them himself.

"The whole mission bothers me." Tillus muttered. "What we're doing. What we're looking for. Who's making us do it."

Kim nodded his head. "Yeah, we weren't exactly told very much. Just where we were going, that we were looking for some object and that we were escorting a Naabali vessel."

"Trust me, I don't know much more than that." Tillus replied, staring deep into the holographic sensor display, watching the little icon's move back and forth around his ships as freighters and trade ships came and went from _Port Yarmshir_. One thousand Kilometres to the station's rear sat Tillus' cruiser, as well as the rest of the 14th fleet's remaining warships.

"I just hope you know what you're doing." Kim replied, setting off towards his console closer to viewing gallery that dominated the front of the bridge.

"So do I." Tillus whispered, wondering if he really was making a mistake accepting Alesha's offer. The whole thing felt weird, too many question's unanswered.

A quick glance at his watch revealed it to be 10:50am, ten minutes before he was supposed to be ready.

"Okay, lets get this show on the road." Tillus announced, garnering the attention of his command crew. Those that weren't already at their stations quickly jogged over to them, whilst those that were readied themselves, preparing to bring the cruiser to life.

The _Baal-Tiel_, that was his cruiser's name. A 640 metre long warship, that, for all intents and purposes, resembled a battlecruiser hull shrunken down to cruiser size; the same pronged hull, the same sleek, vaguely swordlike shape, it even had a small hanger that could hold a single flight of interceptors. The main difference lay in the armament. The _Baal-Tiel_, and all _Sword_-class cruiser's like her, mounted eight double barrelled heavy kinetic mass driver turrets, four turrets in a diamond formation on her deck, and four in a similar formation on her belly. This setup gave Hiigaran cruiser's a fierce barrage in any direction, and allowed them to rip frigates and destroyers apart with ease. Numerous concussion missile tubes, anti-fighter burst guns and pulsar laser's rounded out the cruiser's armament.

"Engines online. Shields online. Weaponry online. Comms. online." Kim rattled off as a readout of the _Baal-Tiel's _system's was transmitted onto his screen. "All system's green across the board."

"Now we wait." Tillus muttered. "Until we're called for."

And that was what they did. They waited in silence, the only noise being the low hum of the holo-projector and the slight rumble from the ships engines many metres to their rear. The minutes seemed to crawl by, though each one was punctuated by a brief ping as another cargo vessel or bulk freighter crawled into sensor range, each one given an icon to represent it on the holo display as they slowly made their way towards _Port Yarmshir_. At the speed the freighters moved at, coupled with their virtually non-existent defences, it was little wonder that civilian freighters were the preferred targets of not only pirates, but also Vaygr or Imperial raiding parties, not that the Vaygr or the Imperialist's tolerated each other much these days.

The Imperial Taiidani Remnant, even more than a hundred years since their expulsion from Hiigara, still maintain a strong position within the galaxy. The Imperials were nothing if not persistant, and were still determined to avenge the death of the Emperor by destroying the Hiigaran people and their Leader Karen S'jet. Imperial numbers had been bolstered by an influx of traditionalist's from the Taiidani Republic, people who could not let their hatred for the Hiigarans simmer and die.

In the aftermath of Makaan's defeat at the hands of Karen S'jet, the Imperials had renounced theirselves from their alliance with the Vaygr forces under Makaan's command and returned to their independent status. This move created alot of resentment and tension between the two parties, which had evolved into a number of large scale border clashes between Imperial and Vaygr fleets. That said, both sides still share mutual trading agreements.

Still, even though it looked like the Imperials and Vaygr were slowly heading towards outright war, the Imperials still deployed raiding groups or task forces into Hiigaran territory, testing the Hiigaran defences by seeing how deep they could penetrate into their territory. During Tillus' relatively short military career, he'd fought off more than his fair shair of modernised_ Qwaar-jet _cruisers or the newer _Vanaar-jet _heavy cruisers and had had a few brushes with their larger vessels.

A second glance at his watch revealed it to be eleven O'clock on the dot. At the exact same moment, the holo-display beeped, encircling a frigate sized civilian vessel, the _Paalan_. With it's rounded, sleek frame, numerous observation decks and limited armour plating, the _Paalan_ was an obvious refit of a civilian liner or yacht. Like all Naabali vessels, the _Paalan's_ hull had been painted in Naabali colours, light tan with brown highlights, and also sported Kiith Naabal's spidery Insignia on either flank, offering no doubt that it was a Naabali ship and not civilian or Navy. A quick scan of the seemingly defenseless ships hull revealed numerous pulsar arrays and concussion missile launchers, the_ Paalan _had enough weaponry to ward off a frigate or two.

"I want full power to the engines until we reach the _Paalan_, then slowdown to match their speed."

"Aye, Captain."

Silently, the _Baal-Tiel _accelerated away from the rest of the 14th fleet, speeding over the top of Port Yarmshir and past lines of bulky trade ships. Within minutes, the Hiigaran cruiser had reached the smaller science vessel, where it quickly slowed to match the Naabali vessels lower speed. Moments later, a second cruiser, the _Morning Star_, appeared, taking up formation on the left flank of the _Paalan_.

"Receiving a transmission from the_ Paalan_."

"Ah, Captain. I was afraid you wouldn't join us." Alesha's cool, calculating voice soothed through the _Baal-Tiels _comm. speakers. "You seemed to be having second thoughts about our arrangement."

"I would be lieing if I told you I hadn't thought about it." Tillus replied hesitantly.

"I can assure you, that what we are doing will benefit our race, if that is what you're worried about." Even through his ships speakers, Tillus could still detect the hint of smugness in her next sentence. "If you feel so bad about it, you could always donate your payment to your Kiith. I'm sure Paktu would appreciate a gift of that size."

Tillus gritted his teeth at the subtle jibe at his Kiith's smaller size. Paktu were mostly focused on agiculture and food production and naturally were much smaller than the larger Kiith's, such as Naabal or Soban.

"May I ask where exactly we are going?" Raan interjected suddenly, preventing Tillus from retorting. "You haven't exactly been the most forthcoming with information."

"Hmm." The Nabaali scientist paused, deciding whether it was a good idea to tell them exactly where the construct was.

"I suppose there is no harm in it. The construct is located right on the border that separates Hiigaran space from the Vaygr Reaches. However, because of the high density of dust clouds in the area, we need not worry about running into any Vaygr patrols."

"I thought it was only a days travel from Yarmshir?" Tillus inquired. "The borders are atleast two days travel."

"It's actually around a day and a half." Alesha remarked.

"So, what's our plan when we reach the object?" Raan inquired, ignoring the fact that Alesha had already lied to them, even if it was only a tiny lie.

"First, we secure the object. Then, me and my team will begin preliminary tests on the construct, though I won't be able to do anything major until our reinforcements arrive in four days time." Alesha paused. "I need you for protection, then to secure the perimeter and to steer away anyone who might be intrested in what we're doing. The last thing we need is for someone to stumble upon us before the rest of my forces arrive."

"I thought you said you couldn't bring a fleet?" Tillus frowned. "Was there anything you said to us that was completely true?"

"I couldn't bring a fleet with me without gaining the attentions of the other Kiithid, and that is something Kiith Naabal doesn't need. Everyone squabbling over who has access to the construct, an arguement Kiith S'jet, with all their support, would probably win... no it's alot easier for me to scout out the wreck on my own, and then for the rest of my forces to arrive in little groups. That way, I can take my time and pick this thing apart without anyone noticing."

"And then Naabal acquires somekind of Alien technology that allows them to get back at S'jet and gain support in the Daiamid?" Tillus added snarkly.

"In a way, yes." Alesha replied calmly. "But we're not trying to take over, merely trying to restore the balance of power."

"Do you really believe Naabal can rob support from S'jet?" Raan asked. "I mean, S'jet have Karen, whom alot of people more or less worship after all she's done, not to mention what she's capable of. That, coupled with their breakthrough in shield technology, is a lot to compete with."

"Maybe you should stick to building ships?" Tillus couldn't stop himself, the chance to get back at the Naabali scientist for the jibe against his Kiith was too much to pass.

"And maybe you should go back to farming." Alesha replied, her tone remaining calm and cool, giving no hint that Tillus' jibe at her Kiith had annoyed her. "I can come up with childish insults as well, Captain. If you have nothing intelligent to say, please keep your mouth shut."

Tillus cursed the woman silently under his breath and withdrew into his chair, refusing to take part in any further conversation as he seriously considering ordering his ship to turn around and head back to Yarmshir.

"And to answer your question, Captain Antal." Alesha continued, either un-aware or ignoring Tillus' annoyance. "I do believe we'll find something. What effect this find will have on our Race, I do not know, but I know we'll find something. Had I been uncertain of finding anything of value, I would have never ventured out her in the first-."

Tillus casually leant over and killed his ships comm. link, unwilling to listen to anymore of the arrogant scientist. Just her general attitude towards the mission and how it would bring Naabal great power and influence was enough to get on Tillus' nerves. Her insults against his Kiith had just added more fuel to the fire. And now he would have to put up with her for another two or three days atleast...

"By Sajuuk, I don't think I can put up with another two days of that." Tillus mumbled, just loud enough for the closest of the command crew to hear, all of whom subtley nodded their heads in agreement.

Tillus shook his head slightly. What had he really gotten them into?

* * *

><p>It could have been worse. Much worse come to think of it. Infact, other than a few sensor ghosts they'd picked up upon entering the thick dust clouds surrounding the supposed coordinates of the alien object, they'd managed the whole journey without a single incident. Atleast Alesha's prediction of no Vaygr patrols appeared to be true.<p>

Tillus had managed to avoid talking to her for the whole journey. Infact, the closest he'd came to communications with her was when he'd sent details of those mysterious sensor contacts to the _Paalan_. Not having to deal with her superiority complex and her devotion to Naabal had suited Tillus just fine.

"It should just be a little further. We're almost there."

Ofcourse, good things never lasted long. Their arrival at the borders demanded that he contact the_ Paalan_, as only they truly knew where they were going. The trio of ships had been silently cruising through the dust clouds for hours now, with Alesha periodically announcing that the construct was 'just a little further'.

"Sir, picking up something on the long ranged sensors." One of the command crew called out. "Wait, two objects. Can't get a clear reading on them thanks to the dustclouds though."

"Two?" Tillus frowned. "I thought there was only one?"

"There should only be one." Alesha chimed over the comm. link.

"No, I've got a definite fix on a massive multi-kilometre object and a smaller object coming in at around two kilometres." The crewman interjected.

"We're getting the same reading's here." Raan added. "Multi-kilometre object and a smaller just over two kilometres object."

"I'm only getting a silhouette from the larger one. No thermals or energy readings." The crewman continued, scanning back and forth over his screen. "There's a weak energy signature coming from the smaller one though."

"We're getting mirror results here, _Baal-Tiel_." Raan added gruffly over the comm. "No energy sig's from the large object. Limited energy signatures from the smaller one."

"Yes, we have the objects in range now." Alesha added as the Paalan's weaker sensors finally located the objects. "Same results as your readings."

"We'll be in visual range in seconds." Kim called from his station near the front of the bridge.

"Copy, visual in fourty seconds." Raan repeated.

Tillus leaned forward in his chair as the _Baal-Tiel _continued to close with the objects, pushing it's way through dust and gas, which seemed to swirl and part around the cruiser as it passed.

What came looming out of the fog before them took his breath away. An absolutely massive ship, easily tens of kilometres long, filled the bridges observation windows. It had two long arms, set apart from each other, but they ran perfectly parallel. The arms curved at one end to form a vague circle or core, which contained two spinning circles which rotated around a gloriously bright blue ball of light. The object was plated in dulled, silver armour, though numerous white lights could be made out in the grooves that ran along it's hull. If it was a ship, it was easily the largest working ship in the galaxy. If it was a warship...

Tillus shuddered slightly at the thought of the forty or so kilometre long object functioning as a weapon of war. This theory was strengthened by the pressence of the smaller object, an object as alien in design as the monolith mere kilometres from it. A long, black carapaced hull that tapered to a point near it's rear. A collection of articulated tentacle like appendages adorned what Tillus assumed to be the front of the vessel, though why it would need them was beyond Tillus' reasoning. Unlike the massive vessel beside it, the smaller vessel had been torn apart by weapons fire. It's long, sweeping, shell like hull had been split in half around a third of the way up it, just above the 'head' and the tentacles. The rest of the hull had been shot through in numerous places, not to mention that one of it's limbs had been severed.

"By Sajuuk." Tillus finally managed to mutter, as he slowly got his head round the sheer scale of the two objects. The Crustacean like dark hulled vessel, -when it had been in one piece-, would have almost been the same size as a Progenitor Dreadnought.

"Amazing." Alesha cooed over the ship-to-ship comm. "There definately not Progentior constructs."

"Do you think the larger ship took out the smaller one?" Tillus muttered, still recovering from the shook of coming across the two monsters.

"No, the damage to the smaller vessel is consistent with the damage continous ion beam cannons and charged pulse lasers would inflict." Alesha replied. "Both of which are the weapons employed by Progenitor Keeper drones."

Progenitor Keeper's were self-aware AI combat ships roughly the size of a destroyer, and were designed by the Progenitors to agressively guard their assets from salvagers or thieves. With their two vicious sustained fire ion cannons and eight charged pulsar arrays, a Keeper could easily engage and destroy warships more than twice it's size, easily capable of taking on battlecruisers and their escorts single handedly. Their firepower, coupled with their phased shield systems, ability to build advanced fighter sized combat drones in seconds, tactical hyperspace jump capabilites and sophisticated repair systems, allowed a single Keeper drone to go toe-to-toe with an entire fleet and win.

"So, the smaller ship had a run in with a Keeper drone." Raan muttered over the comm. "And Keepers are always guarding something. That means it could still be around."

"Hardly." Alesha retorted. "We just ran a quick scan of the smaller vessel. It's hundreds of thousands of years old. That means the wreck predates the current dating system we use. It is entirely possible that the two ships fought each other whilst the Progenitors were still around."

"Like a war?" Tillus inquired, causing the Naabali scientist to audibly huff in annoyance. The Progenitor race, despite their obvious power and capabilites, suddenly vanished off the face of the galaxy tens of thousands of years ago, leaving behind vast graveyards filled with some of their most impressive achievements, both working and destroyed. Theories on their dissappearance varied from a massive civil war, to the Progenitors simply deciding to leave the galaxy. The discovery of the two alien objects however would perhaps shed some light on what happened. Maybe the Progenitors had been at war with whoever had built the massive constructs?

"I doubt that." Alesha snapped in reply, though she still maintained her calm, almost monotone voice. "If there had been a war, I'm sure we would have discovered more than one of these ships, and not one hidden in an unexplored dustcloud either."

"However, if I were to take an educated guess..." Alesha paused for a moment whilst she thought over what she was going to say, working out what was the most probable theory, the most believable concept. "I'd say the smaller ship is not from our galaxy, and infact, got here via the larger construct."

"Like the hyperspace gates the Vaygr use to move around strikecraft groups without using carriers?" Tillus asked, hoping he'd grasped the concept.

"Most likely. Though massively scaled up in both size, power and range. It wouldn't surpise me if this gate, if we assume it works like a Hyperspace gate and taking into account it's size and most likely it's reactor output, could jump a ship across an entire galaxy or more."

"Thats assuming it is a Hyperspace gate of somekind." Raan replied. "I'm quite convinced it's a massive mass driver or railgun."

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"Well, look at it. There's a gap between the two arms. You could load a projectile at one end, pass a magnetic current between the arms; possibly a current powered by the glowing core, and bang, you've got the God of all railguns."

"And what would they be shooting?"

"Well, I'd use a gun that size against planets. One shot would most likely crack a planet into little pieces" Raan continued, studying the object carefully, unperturbed by Alesha's sarcastic tone. "Considering the size the slug would have to be, maybe the smaller ship was operating it or loading it. Would explain the need for the tentacles on the bottom of it."

"It seems like a lot of trouble to build a gun this size just to kill a planet when nukes or LOADW warheads will do the same job." Tillus added. Looking at the shape and design, he could see where Raan was coming from, but from a logistical point of view, it was a massive waste.

"We're talking about aliens, Tillus." Raan replied. "Their actions don't need to make sense. Maybe they don't have access to Atmospheric deprivation warheads or nukes."

"I think." Alesha interupted, preventing Tillus from replying with how everyone that had fusion power would have nuclear weaponry in some form. "We're missing alot of answers here. So lets not jump to conclusions. The first of my ships should be here in a day, two days max, lets wait till they get here before we start investigating further."

"I thought you were in a hurry to start pulling this thing apart?" Tillus remarked.

"That was before I realised the sheer scale of the task at hand." Alesha replied. "The first of my ships should have one of our carriers with them. Once it gets here, we can use it's resources to start investigating the objects."

"So, until then we just sit around, doing nothing?" Tillus added. He had to admit, he was beginning to take glee in annoying the daughter of Naabals Kiith-sa.

"Until then I suggest we setup a perimeter." Alesha replied, yet again, either unaware of or ignoring Tillus' sarcasm. "The _Paalan_ has a number of proximity activated sensor drones, I'll distribute them between your two ships and you can go set them up. Whilst you're away, I can conduct some scans and small tests using our drones."

"And after that?" Tillus inquired. Setting up a perimeter would take no more than an hour at the most.

"After that, we wait." Alesha replied with an almost silent sigh, before adding softly.

"If their is something I have learned in my relatively short life, it is that we should not meddle with things we are not prepared to deal with. Who knows what gifts or secrets these constructs might hold. For all we know, this discovery could be the best thing to happen to our race since we recovered Hiigara, or it could unleash a horror upon us that is beyond the darkest depths of our imagination."

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><p><em>AN :Thanks to everyone that reviewed, Faved or Alerted! :D (Especially Andrey, that was really quite helpful)  
><em>

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know it's a bit shorter than the last one. Anyway, please Review, Reviews are awesome, even if it's just to say you liked it. :) Also, don't be afraid to tell me about any mistakes or problems in it, after all, I'll never improve if you don't tell me about any mistakes ^^_


	3. Chapter 3

Alesha Naabal eyed the two alien artifacts from behind the safety of the thick observation windows that adorned the front of her lavishly decorated private quarters. The artifacts that hopefully would hold the technological breakthrough she'd been hunting for, a key that would allow Kiith Naabal a clear path back to power. Her desire to see her Kiith succeed in the Daiamid, to once again become one of the most powerful, influential Kiithid once more, had not been born because of a deep seated hatred for Kiith S'jet, or any of the other Kiithid for that matter, no, it had been born of pity, pity for her own Kiith. For years now, Kiith Naabal had consistantly failed in it's efforts to gain further support from the other Kiithid. New technologies, weapons and ships promised by Naabal were either never delivered or were faulty, unfinished and nowhere near as groundbreaking as promised. Thanks to this, coupled with Kiith S'jet's success in reverse engineering Progenitor shield technology, many of Naabals closest supporters had slowly switched sides; Manaan, Paktu, Kaalel... one by one they revoked their political support, gradually reducing Naabal to a meagre, lonesome voice in the Daiamid, a shadow of it's former self and mere background noise to the more powerful Kiithid.

Regrettably, much of this downfall had happened under her Father's reign as Kiith-sa, the leader of Kiith Naabal. Admiting something like that wouldn't exactly strengthen the bonds between Father and Daughter, but in the end, there wasn't much of a relationship between them anyway. She was the least favourite of his six children, and had openly been declared crazy or fanatical by her Father on more than one occasion. Being named a lunatic infront of the entire Daiamid wasn't something you could easily live down. He on the other hand was a shortsighted idiot who had no long term plans for Kiith Naabal, not to mention, being a terrible leader and planner to round it all off. That was why Alesha had took it upon herself to find a way to repair the shattered Naabali image, to make Naabal a powerful political voice once more.

Alesha let out an almost silent sigh. Sometimes it felt like she was carrying her entire Kiith on her shoulders...

Her eye's settled upon the bulky form of the carrier _Farseer _currently holding position a mere four kilometres from her ship. At 580 metres in length, the Naabali carrier, a member of the ancient _Imperator_-class line of carriers if her limited military knowledge was correct, appeared comically small against both the looming, silver hull of the larger alien construct and the sinister, black, curling shape of the smaller, damaged vessel.

The objects were odd, well, that was to be expected, they were alien after all, but having looked at the two of them together and having compared data collected from both of them, she was now fully convinced that they were _not_ built by the same race.

The larger, almost key shaped vessel was tasteful and pleasing to look at thanks to it's sleek, curved frame, smooth, rounded edges and elegant, if odd, double hulled design. Coupled with it's eerie, glowing core and silver hull plating, Alesha could tell that the race that had built it had designed it with aesthetics in mind. She was still convinced it was a hyperspace gate of somekind, though she had no idea how to utilise it. She'd toyed with Captain Raan's idea of it being an oversized mass driver, but everything pointed against it. There was no target, no ammunition, no visible way of loading it, and the trajectory for the projectile was all wrong. If fired, the projectile would have headed out of the known galaxy.

Whatever it's purpose, it had been built to last. Her science teams had used cutting tool's and breaching charges usually used during the process of boarding warships, and yet they'd never even scratched the surface of the constructs silvery hull. The 'windows' of the construct were similarly impervious, leading many engineers to conclude that they weren't windows at all and were simply their to give the allusion of internal lighting. The resistant properties of the objects hull had to be off the scale. It was way beyond any material currently used during starship construction, even the materials utilised in Bentusi or Progenitor vessels. As a last, desperate, resort several kinetic rounds had been fired at the construct in the hopes that military grade weapons would pierce the hull and allow the science team access.

Instead, the rounds had _bounced_ _off_ the hull, soaring off into deep space, alongside any remaining hope of actually getting aboard the monstrosity.

Then, in comparison, there was the smaller object. That one... that one unsettled her. Just looking at it, a giant, ungainly form that resembled a monster from legend rather than a creation of an intelligent spacefaring species, gave her the shivers. She could think of no practical reason to build a warship in the image of an oversized sea creature, and make no mistake, the thing was a warship, an impressively tough one at that. Despite having been cut in two and having had it's hull pierced through in several area's, the vessel was still emitting very-weak power signatures in localized areas, powering what appeared to be somekind of energy field that was preventing the wreck from drifting apart. A spinally mounted mass driver ran the length of it's body, and each of it's tentacles were tipped with somekind of kinetic stream weapon that gave the allusion of being an energy weapon, firing a stream of molten metal at a fraction of the speed of light, a weapon that would, most likely, slice through unshielded cruisers like they were made of butter.

She knew all this because, unlike the larger construct, her science teams had had no problem gaining entry to the vessel through the numerous hull breaches that pockmarked it's surface. They'd quickly found and secured one of the kinetic stream weapons, complete with severed tentacle housing, for transport to the _Paalan_, where it was currently being picked apart by several weapons specialists in her ships spacious, well equipped laboratory. She herself had looked at it a few hours earlier and whilst it was definitely an intresting and exotic design for a ship-to-ship weapon, it wasn't exactly the groundbreaking tech she'd been looking for. The weapon would be examined for a few more hours and then transported back to Hiigara where the theory and mechanism behind it could be fully understood.

There was something odd about that ship though. Science team members who'd been picking through it's remains over the course of the day, had begun to feel... _strange_. Almost every member of the science team had began to complain of headaches, nausea or double vision. Many of them were jittery and tense, constantly looking over their shoulders, as though they were being followed. Two of the most extreme cases, two engineer's who'd been investigating what they'd assumed to be the vessels still active reactor, were now under temporary supervision in the _Farseer's _medical bay after being found huddled in a corner aboard the alien ship after reportedly seeing groups of shadowy figures shambling around the alien craft and hearing _voices_ whispering their names. She'd made a mental note to inquire on their progress in a few hours.

Whilst Alesha wasn't usually one to get annoyed by what she would have usually considered superstitious nonsense or ghost stories, the implications of what the two engineers had seen, not to mention the complaints from the rest of the science team, chilled her to the bone and reinforced the growing part of her that wanted to get her science teams off of the Sajuuk-damned thing immediately. As a compromise, she'd deployed armed security officers alongside the science team, prohibited them from entering the reactor area and had begun rotating personnel every six hours to avoid exposure to whatever it was that was damaging their minds. The measures would slowdown the mission, but she'd rather that than risk the remainder of her men becoming like the two engineers.

Her eye's settled back upon the bulky form of the _Farseer_ as it carefully positioned itself beside the larger construct, executing a quick roll so that it's belly mounted hangar bays were facing the constructs large glowing core. Though it wasn't the only _Imperator_-class carrier in service, the _Farseer_ was certainly the oldest carrier employed by Kiith Naabal, infact, it was probably the oldest carrier in the entire navy. It had seen the rise and fall of the Beast virus, had protected vital Hiigaran convoy's during the Vaygr War and had participated in the final battle over Hiigara. Despite her age, the _Farseer_ had remained in-service due to three main reasons. It was compact, being only slightly larger than a destroyer, possessed as much armour as a Heavy cruiser, and was cheaper to run and maintain than the newer line of Hiigaran carriers.

And yet, none of that intrested Alesha, instead she was focused on the tiny, barely visible object streaking away from the _Farseer's _largest, central hangar, a probe drone modified by her engineer's to accomodate several small mineral scoops in order to gain a sample of the element that made up the constructs core. There were two problems that had had to be overcome during the programming of the drones flight path. First of all, the drone's flight pattern had to be timed so that it avoided the two large, concentric rings that were constantly spinning around the core. Secondly, the drone had to be programmed to resist the constructs gravitational field. The field was unusually strong, even for a construct of that scale, and had an unnaturally far reach, attempting to draw in the two naval cruisers that were holding position almost two thousand kilometres away. She had a hunch that the element the constructs core was made from was responsible, though she couldn't be sure until she had a sample she could test.

The probe raced away from it's carrier at speeds fighter pilot could only dream of. Utilising the data Alesha and the engineers had programmed it with, It sped through the gap between the constructs two rings, entered the core, emerged from the other side and... exploded.

Alesha glared at the fading, orange tinged fireball that marked the end of the modified probe. So... this would be the latest addition to a day filled with problems, setbacks and dangers? The unknown element must have fried the probes systems, triggering it's emergency failsafe's which inturn caused it to self-destruct. It was ironic that a system designed to prevent Hiigara's enemies from getting their hands on any information, was preventing her from gathering information on the potentially useful element that made up the alien core.

Alesha stepped back from the observation windows and began to retreat deeper into her quarters, her already sour mood dampened even further by the lose of the probe. Setback after setback, sometimes it felt like Sajuuk himself was against her, infact, she wouldn't be surprised if he was. What she'd undertaken, trying to fix her shattered Kiith not to mention the politics and research needed to accomplish it... sometimes... sometimes it felt a little too much for just one person to handle...

"Ah!"

Alesha recoiled away from her desk. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts she'd stumbled right into it. The desk was the oldest thing on the _Paalan_. Crafted from the finest Kharakan wood, the desk had travelled with her ancestors during their return from Exile. It was a piece of Hiigaran history itself, and most likely the last of it's kind. That didn't stop her from cursing it fiercly, before damning the thing to hell as she slowly hobbled around it, clutching her wounded thigh. She collapsed into her chair and sighed, willing her anger and annoyance away, though the pain remained. She brought up her personal console, which she'd had embedded in the desks wooden frame, and began sifting through messages, sorting the important from the unimportant.

There was a message from the _Paalan's_ head engineer regarding the vessels underpowered drive systems, a problem that had plagued her vessel ever since she'd acquired it. The _Paalan_, original being designed as a civilian passenger liner, had weak engines for a vessel the size of a frigate and limited room for improvement. Even with the latest in military ion drive systems, the _Paalan_ could scarcely keep up with a cruiser, nevermind an agile frigate. The Head engineer had come up with a solution, in his eyes. By sacrificing the laboratory on the deck above the current engineering section in order to gain further space, he reckoned he could install a military standard frigate drive, though it would have to be mounted vertically and in a different housing to accomodate the _Paalan's_ narrow frame. He'd even included a sketch (For an engineer, he was a talented artist) of what her ship would look like with the new upgrades. Sadly, the _Paalan _was dedicated to research and science, so sacrificing a laboratory wasn't really an option, as she detailed in her reply. Besides, the _Paalan_ boasted enough pulsar lasers and concussion missile pods to scare of a couple of frigates and always travelled with escorts of somekind, it wasn't as if she _needed_ the speed.

The next message was from the _Baal-Tiel_, from Captain Tillus, regarding lack of orders. She'd already explained why she'd relieved the two cruisers of patrol duty, frigates were _far_ less conspicuous than bulky cruisers, and how were of more use guarding the alien constructs. She deliberately ignored that one...

A quick look revealed the remainder of her messages to be just as intresting, causing her to screw her face up in disgust. One of the disadvantages of being in a position of high power was that people often asked her easily solved, trivial or even pointless questions. Sifting through this mess of electronic drivel, some of which bordered on complete idiocy, almost made her wish she wasn't the one in command.

She glared out into the depths of space. She'd chosen to setup her private quarters in the _Paalan's_ spacious observation deck for one simple reason, she liked to stare into space, literally. To her space was an unsolvable mystery, something that would never be fully understood. It was wonderfully vast and held an array of breathtaking spectacles. From the golden depths of a vast, unexplored nebula, to the unclouded, untainted area's of dark space where one could see literally billions of stars, space never ceased to amaze her. Right now, outside the _Paalan_, space was orange, reminding her that they were currently deep inside a vast dustcloud, hidden and cut off from everyone else in the galaxy.

Silently, she hoped todays setbacks and delays would be the last hurdle in her path and that things would go more smoothly thereafter. Silently, she cursed herself for thinking that, knowing her luck, and how Sajuuk always seemed to be against her, it would get worse...

She was about to return her gaze to her consoles holographic display when here eye caught sight of one of her assualt frigate's (commonly nicknamed a 'flak-frigate' due to their ability to fire proximity activated anti-fighter burst rounds as well as solid kinetic slugs) as it suddenly began... _glowing_. The ship, which had been cruising alongside the largest of the alien constructs, quickly began to accelerate, the blue glow growing around it's hull as it sped the length of the alien behemoth at speeds faster than it was capable of, missing the _Farseer's_ bulky form by what must have been _metres_, before smoothing out and blurring as it warped and darted off into space at mindboggling speeds, as though it was... _catapulted_ by the construct.

Alesha blinked once, twice, her mind frozen as she tried to decipher what had just happened, her mind screaming as it tried to comprehend what had just happened.

The frigate... it just... _gone_!

She came to sudden, abrupt decision. Darting to her feet quicker than she realised she could move, she turned and headed towards the door, half tripping over her chair in the process. She had to reach the bridge and... do something! _Anything_! She had to try and workout what just happened, why one of her frigates had suddenly been launched into deep space.

As her mind buzzed as it jumped from worry, to theory, then back to worrying as it tried to make sense of the situation, there was one thing that stood out in her mind, one thing she was absolutely, undeniably sure about as she hurried through her ships empty corridors as she dashed for the bridge.

Things had gotten worse... a _lot_ worse.

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><p><em>And thus, I summon forth a third chapter from the depths of the ME crossover archive...<em>

Sorry for the delay, a mixture of school, homework, sickness, and having no idea what to write for about three weeks prevented me from getting this out as quick as I would have liked. (Though I got it out exactly a month after I first posted the story) It's not as long as I would have liked (It's half the size of the last chapter) but it's long enough, hopefully.

Anyhow, review or PM and tell me your opinion on this chapter, or my fic on the whole. At the moment, I have no idea whether this fic is better than the last one. (In my opinion it is, but I'm the author, so that doesn't really count...)

Anyway, the next chapter hopefully won't take so long, but then again, I can't promise anything, but whatever.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry for the delay. I would have uploaded this earlier, but I'm trying to make do with internet speeds that are worse than dial-up at the moment. Anyway, here's a long chapter to make up for the delay._

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><p>The Vaygr did not name their ships by class like the other <em>lesser <em>races of the galaxy, after all why waste time giving a name to a machine, something that cared not what it was called, existing only to do what it was designed for? Instead, they assigned simple model numbers to their ships. The lone corvette patrolling the edge of the vast dust cloud formations that marked the end of Vaygr space and the beginning of their sworn enemies, was thus a _Model-18 _Long-ranged patrol corvette. Stretching ninety metres from it's blunt armoured nose to the very tip of it's hardened engine casing, the Model-18 was large enough to be mistaken for a small frigate. Two long sensor booms stretched out from either side of the corvette's slim profile, trailing towards the vessels rear like the black whispy antenna of an oversized insect. Each Boom, packed full of sensitive detection equipment, meant the corvette had no problem detecting the energy burst emanating from close to the centre of the dust field.

For a brief moment, the corvette's tired, bored crew feared they were under attack. Image's of a blinding beam of light suddenly lancing out and vaporising the tiny vessel as the Hiigarans springed their surprise revenge assualt on the Vaygr Reaches for the atrocities of the Vaygr War appeared in more than a few worried minds as the corvette's sensors bleeped, flagging the unusal readings for the crew's attention. When no attack came, the crew turned to pondering the source of the energy burst. Somekind of spacial anomally? A hyperdrive malfunction? A weapons test? The sensor readings were unhelpful, mainly a collection of unintelligible values and impossible numbers giving no clue to the cause. The readings did however contain the rough coordinates of where the anomally had taken place.

There was no decision to be made. Something was going on out there. Something possibly dangerous. It was either something that threatened the security of Loyalist Space or perhaps it was a device or weapon that would help the Loyalist's in their struggle against the infidels in their own midsts. Whether the anomally was created by the bastard Hiigarans, the Progenitor or another unknown party with a hidden agenda remainded to be seen, but whatever and whoever the cause, it was the Corvette crew's responsibility to report the strange event. A message was sent to the nearest Loyalist Crusade via the corvette's newly fitted high powered communications relay, a message relaying the event in great detail as well as containing a duplicate of the corvette's sensor readings and current coordinates -so that the response group could jump-in directly ontop of the anomally.

It's duty complete, the corvette's powerful engines surged as it accelerated, speeding off to complete the remainder of it's half-finished patrol. Whilst it wouldn't take long for any Loyalist reinforcements to arrive, it was neither the duty nor in the intrest of the corvette crew to await their arrival. Instead, the Vaygr crewmen set off content in the knowledge that the source of the anomally would be quickly discovered and, if needed, swiftly and severly dealt with, as per the Vaygr way.

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><p>Captain Tillus Velaan was not having a good day.<p>

To be fair, he hadn't had a 'good' day since he'd left the bustling markets and crowded bars of Port Yarmshir several days ago. The last two days in particular had been tediously boring. The Naabali woman, Alesha, in all her infinite strategic wisdom, had pulled both his and Raan's cruiser's from patrol duty and had them re-tasked to guard duty over the two alien constructs. She had replaced them with half a dozen frigates, citing that the smaller craft were far less conspicuous than cruisers. Tillus had sent her several messages, explaining how she was squandering her resources, that the two cruisers would be more useful on patrol. She'd answered him once, telling him he was wrong and then after that, she'd completely ignored him.

Thus, he'd wasted the last two days either asleep or drinking in his cabin, or sat on the bridge, staring moodily at the tactical display, watching the holographic progress of the Naabali science teams as they poked and prodded at the alien derelicts, muttering to himself that they were lucky that they had something to do. More than once he'd offered a silent prayer to Sajuuk, asking for a little excitement, just a _little_, lest he die of total boredom.

By the looks of things now, his prayers had not gone unanswered...

"Gone?" Tillus snapped at his second in command, wondering if the man had actually went insane. "What do you mean, gone?"

Tillus had been present on the bridge when the silver-hulled alien derelict had suddenly, inexplicably, started glowing the same dark blue colour as it's core. He'd watched the glow grow, warp around the constructs hull before speeding off along it's impressive length, whilst, simultaneously, a large object had been fired off into deep space at speeds so great even the ship computers couldn't track it. He'd never, even for a second, considered the object in question was one of Kiith Naabal's assualt frigates...

"Sir, I don't know what else to tell you." Lieutenaunt Kim Haal replied, struggling to explain the phenomenon. "That... _thing_, just grabbed one of the frigates and threw it off towards the outer rim, towards the edge of the galaxy even, at speeds that, basically, should be nigh _impossible_."

"How fast?" Tillus muttered, barely thinking about what he was saying in reply. Instead, his mind was fixed on the Naabali frigate or more precisely the safety of it's crew. At the speed it was alleged to be travelling at, even had the crew survived the vicious acceleration, any contact with even the tiniest piece of rock or debris, would shred the frigates armoured hull to pieces.

On the other hand, a tiny part of his mind wanted to see Alesha's reaction to the sudden change of events. At least her theory about it being a jumpgate was true...

"Fast enough that it left sensor range almost instantly." Lieutenaunt Haal continued. "We're talking FTL speeds, sir."

"Maker be damned." Tillus shook his head, ignoring the quiet muttering and shaking of heads amongst the command crew. The chances of the frigate and it's crew having survived those kind of speeds were practically nil. The acceleration alone would have undoubtably killed them, reducing them to mushy red paste smeared across the frigate's walls. He quickly dispelled that unpleasant thought.

"I cross-refrenced our sensor readings with readings from the sensor suites aboard the _Morning Star _and the _Farseer _at the moment the Alien jumpgate activated." Haal continued, handing his Captain a datapad containing a copy of the readings. "Look at the readings a few seconds before activation."

Tillus raised an eyebrow. According to the sensor readings, the frigate had sent a communications message, whether intentionally or accidently, to the jumpgate. The jumpgate, surprisingly, had sent a message back. The frigate replied and then the gate had activated moments later.

"The frigate activated it?" Tillus asked, checking and re-checking the datapad's readings, hoping that his XO had made a mistake whilst examining the data.

"I'm not one hundred percent certain. But at this current moment, that's what it looks like." The Lieutenaunt replied with a shrug. By now, the usually quiet, subdued bridge was awash with nervous, hushed chatter as the command crew discussed the fate of the Naabali frigate.

"Forward the readings to Alesha Naabal aboard the _Paalan_." Tillus snapped after spending a few seconds rechecking the data. "After all, it's a Naabali frigate. She'll need every piece of information she can get her hands on if she wants to at least find out where it was sent."

Where it was sent... Tillus supressed a snort at that choice of words as he spared a glance at the bridges tactical display. The display had been zoomed out until it showed a crystal clear image of the known galaxy. A thin, flashing green line had been placed on the map, beginning at their current location uncomfortably close to the edge of Vaygr space, spearing straight through the heart of the Vaygr Reaches, before passing beyond the rim of the galaxy, off into the darkness beyond- a computer generated guess at the lost frigates possible trajectory. Assuming the impossible feat that the frigate hadn't been torn to shreds by space debris, locating and recovering said frigate would be beyond impossible.

"Of course, Captain." The Lieutenaunt replied, turning to and heading towards the communications officers station. "I'll inform the _Paalan_ immediately."

Tillus gave a nod of approval to the junior officer, watching him as he made his way over to the communication officers station, before turning his attention back to the tactical display that dominated the centre of the bridge. For a fleeting moment, he was content to simply stare at the holo map of the galaxy. His race was surrounded on all sides by enemies -nations that sought to destroy them out of sheer hate for how much they'd lost to the upstart Hiigarans, or for revenge, a crusade to avenge the loss of a leader who could have united them. He, like many Hiigaran's, wished only for peace, no matter how fragile. An end to the constant hardship their race had faced since leaving Kharak. Sajuuk, however, had not seen fit to grant their wish just yet.

A few keystrokes later and he'd reconfigured the display to show the dust field his cruiser currently resided within. A dozen different shaped green identification icons clustered round the hulking form's of the two distinctly alien derelicts. Zooming out ever so slightly revealed four more green hollow diamond's travelling evenly spaced around the research sites perimeter -the four Naabali assualt frigates tasked with ensuring no one blundered across the site by mistake.

"Captain." Kim called from his position beside the communications officer. "Miss Naabal offer's her thanks. She says that the data will be very useful in finding out what exactly happened to her frigate."

"However." He continued, pausing for a moment to re-read a part of the electronic reply. She hadn't even bothered to open a comm channel to them and reply in person. "There appears to be a situation aboard the alien warship. One of her research teams are not responding."

Tillus was about to respond -make some sarcastic remark about the womans abilities- when the tactical display chose that moment to suddenly light up. Beeping in warning, the display was filled with dozens, possibly hundreds of unknown contacts as confused sensor suites picked up and then lost what they believed to be multiple vessels, a sure sign of electro-magnetic interference. This sudden activity was accompanied by the loss of one known contact, something Tillus almost missed in the chaos; one of the patrolling frigates had disappeared.

"By Sajuuk." Tillus quipped aloud. "What is it now?"

No one answered. Probably because no one knew. Dozens of nervous eye's were instantly locked to holographic screens, watching for the smallest hint of danger. Faces lined with worry, the bridge crew automatically began their assigned tasks, a wordless order to prepare the warship, a precaution in case they needed to defend theirselves from the harsh, unpredictable nature of the galaxy.

They weren't the only one's that had noticed either. A kilometre ahead of them the _Morning Star's _fusion torch engines blossomed to life, bathing the _Baal-Tiel's _bridge in a soft blue glow as the cruiser quickly spun on it's axis, positioning itself to face the unresponsive frigates last known position. Three assualt frigates vectored away from their guard positions over the alien jumpgate, moving to the flanks of the larger, slower cruisers, ready to provide support if needed.

"Communications from the _Morning Star_, Captain." The comm. officer called out, craning his head around the side of his console.

"Patch it through then." Tillus snapped. He'd have thought, after all the time he and Raan had been fighting together, the comm. officer would have learned to just patch through the _Morning Star _without asking.

"Tillus, are you seeing this?" Raan's deep, hard voice vibrated through the bridge speakers, making the question seem more like a demand than a request.

"Yeah." Tillus replied, eye's remaining fixed on the tactical display as the sensors continued chasing ghosts. "We can't get a lock on whats out there though."

"We can't either." His fellow naval Captain replied. "Whatever form it takes, it is certainly hostile. It had already destroyed one of our frigates. They are cowards, hiding in the dust, unwilling to face our guns."

"Nice description." Tillus murmured. However, Raan's rant did raise a valid point. What kind of foe engaged the perimeter patrols and then hid from the main force? Either a foe that was unprepared to fight them... or one that was smart. A foe that knew exactly what they were doing. But what advantages could an enemy force possibly have in a dust cloud? And then he had it. As he stared at the tactical display, brow furrowed in thought, he'd noticed something. Inside the dust cloud, sensor range was limited to around one hundred kilometres, give or take a few. Anything beyond one hundred kilometres might as well have been invisible, the dust was that thick, the sensors were unable to penetrate deeper. Detection, targetting... nothing could see further than one hundred klicks.

If the enemy knew that... they would be able to proceed to point blank engagement range before revealing themselves, allowing them to take the Hiigaran's by surprise.

"Sensor's, can you clean this up?" Tillus suddenly ordered, gesturing towards the display. It was a slim hope at best, but trying was better than nothing. If they were about to fight, he would take any advantage he could get.

The reply however, was in the negative.

"No, sir." The sensor's operator replied, shaking his head. "It's the dust, sir. Nothing I can do will clean this up."

The curse the Hiigaran Captain was about to mutter died on his lips as he was thrown violently to the floor. The cruiser's hull groaned in distress as the vessel was struck once, twice, three times by what had to be weapons fire. Although the reverse engineered shields absorbed the destructive force of whatever weapon had struck them preventing any damage to the hull, the kinetic force was still enough to push the cruiser out of position... and drop Tillus on his backside.

"Where are they? Who are they? What class? How many?" Tillus shouted, a rapid fire stream of questions directed at the momentarily stunned command crew as he slowly picked himself up off the metal floor. The fall had done nothing for his dignity.

Ahead of them, the _Morning star's _shields flashed to life as it too was hit by weapons fire from the unseen attackers, her shields flickering golden at the points of impact. The _Morning Stars _four top mounted double-barrelled heavy guns swivelled slightly, elevated their chunky barrels and returned fire, each flash illuminating the _Baal-Tiels _bridge for a fraction of a second. Tillus grimaced as he climbed to his feet, pain shooting through his body from his injured buttocks. The attackers were_ above _them, giving them a terrifying firepower advantage until the Hiigaran cruisers could maneuver to bring their four belly mounted guns to bear.

"Vaygr Loyalists!" One of the crew called out, though Tillus didn't look to see who. "Four cruisers, three destroyers, six assualt frigates. Multiple assualt craft squadrons, probably a carrier supporting them. Their vectoring down to engage us from above."

As though spurred into action by crewmans announcement, a holographic representation of the Loyalist force appeared on the tactical display, replacing the chaos of changing icons from before. Sure enough, a wedge formation of four cruisers led the attack, escorted by destroyers and frigates and supported by multiple fighter squadrons. Tillus' mind went into action. A standard Vaygr _Model-30 _cruiser mounted six kinetic weapons; four heavy guns in a fixed-forward mount in the cruisers nose and one lesser turretted weapon located on either side of it's tall, thin hull, just before the engineering section. A medium-yield fusion missile launcher mounted along the ships spine, lance lasers and point defence guns rounded out the vessels fearsome armament. Thanks to the fact the _Model-30's _four heaviest guns were fixed-forward however, as long as one remainded mobile, it was easy enough to stay out of it's narrow firing arc. The only problem was, there were _four_ cruisers. The destroyers and assualt frigates were another problem alltogether.

"Helm! Get us moving before those cruisers tear us apart!" Tillus shrieked, limping slowly towards his command chair.

As if too prove his point, one of the Naabali assualt frigates faltered under the wrath of one of the enemy cruisers guns. With shields and armour designed to withstand weapons fire from other frigates, the four heavy kinetic slugs tore through the frigates shields and armour like tissue paper, each round punching clean through the smaller warship leaving trails of debris in their wake. The frigate floundered, dropping downwards out of position. Clouds of artificial atmosphere leaked through four jagged holes in it's hull like blood flowing from a wound. Then it exploded; a blinding white flash as it's damaged fusion reactor went critical, momentarily blinding the crew of the _Baal-Tiel_, vaporising the frigate and it's crew in the process.

"We need to break their formation." Tillus grimaced, lowering himself slowly into his command chair. The cruiser shuddered as the deck guns finally returned fire, the barrage of heavy slugs smashing against the lead enemy cruiser. "Target the nearest destroyer, and quickly!"

"Also, get the _Paalan_ on the line!" Tillus continued, even as his ships guns tracked and fired at one of the escorting enemy destroyers. By now, the _Baal-Tiel _was facing the enemy formation. With an extra eight guns, the cruisers kinetic barrage was devastating to a vessel even as large as a destroyer. Shields falling to the sheer number of heavy slugs, the destroyers distinctive off-axis hull was buffetted by the massive barrage, jerking left and right from the kinetic force generated by each impact, armour shattering off with each hit. A massive fireball engulfed the destroyers oversized starboard prong as a particularly lucky shot struck the vessels fusion missile battery, the force of the ensuing explosion almost ripping the hull apart. Billowing atmosphere, smoke and debris, the destroyer turned and ran, breaking formation and abandoning it's comrades.

"Captain Velaan." Alesha announced over the communications system. Instead of the uncaring monotone she usually used, her voice was strained, the voice of someone who'd watched everything fall apart around them. "I assume you haven't contacted me for a friendly chat?"

Tillus winced as his ship vibrated, several missile's detonating against his cruisers protective shields.

"We're outnumbered here, there's no way we can hold them off." He replied, sparing a glance at the tactical display. One of the enemy assualt frigates vanished from the display, disabled by fire from two Naabali frigates. "We can stall the Vaygr advance, but not for long. You need to get your people out of there now."

A fireball erupted outside as one of his ships pulsar lasers hit one of the many roving Vaygr assualt craft, turning the dagger-like vessel into a funeral pyre for it's single occupant.

"Then it's as I thought..." There was no bitterness in Alesha's voice. Infact, she sounded... sad. For a moment she was silent, allowing him to clearly hear the background noise of the _Paalan's_ frantic bridge. However, when she spoke again, her voice had regained it's business like, uncaring edge.

"However, we have another problem. I've lost contact with all but one of my science teams aboard the alien warship." She sighed. "Usually I'd insist we mount a rescue operation, but as you can tell, time is not on our side."

"So whats your plan then?" He replied. Alesha struck him as one of those people that always seemed to have a backup plan. Thankfully, the Vaygr had decided to keep their distance, engaging from around the eighty kilometre mark as well as ignoring the _Paalan_ and the _Farseer_.

"I instructed my science teams to install several remote detonated high yield fusion bombs I... _acquired_ from some nearby sources, to be used in the unlikely event someone found us." She replied coldly. "The bombs should hopefully vapourise the alien vessel, preventing the Vaygr from learning anything about it. I'll detonate them as soon as I'm done extracting the surviving science team, but I'll need a few minutes."

Tillus gritted his teeth. For some reason, it didn't surprise him that she'd gotten her hands on such powerful weapons. Fusion bomb's were capable of crippling or destroying the largest of capital ships, and were usually only used by dedicated mine-laying vessels.

"Fine, we'll stall them for five minutes. Thats your window." Tillus replied. "Once those five minutes are up, we're out of here, with or without your science team."

"Thank you, Captain." And with that, she killed the link.

Great. Now he had to hold of an enemy force that out numbered him and out gunned him. For five minutes. By Sajuuk, it would be an achievement just to survive. As if to highlight the point, another allied frigate died, engines flickering on and off, white-hot plasma spewing from a ragged hole in the engineering section.

"Target the destroyer on the left side of their formation." Tillus commanded, even as a couple more missiles detonated along his cruisers flanks. Over the din, he heard someone shout that the shields were barely holding at 30%. The _Baal-Tiels _guns rotated towards their victim and fired, each shot vibrating through the deck plates.

Their target however, was more astute than the last destroyer to fall to their guns. The destroyer rolled over at the last moment possible, causing the majority of the heavy slugs to miss completely, whilst returning fire with it's own guns and missiles. Thankfully, the _Morning Star _had targetted the same destroyer and every one of it's slugs hit. It's engines crippled, the destroyer turned and limped from the Vaygr formation, seeking safety in the depths of the dust cloud.

"Sir, enemy vessels are accelerating!" Kim called from his position near the observation windows. "We only have three allied frigates left! The _Farseer's _fighter squadrons have been reduced to half their number!"

The Vaygr, fed up holding position and trading fire with the Hiigaran defenders, split formation and charged, dividing their cruisers and remaing frigates into two groups in an attempt to divide the Hiigaran fire and crush them in a pincer move.

"Send a firing solution to the _Morning Star_, we need to thin out those cruisers!" Tillus bellowed at his XO as his ships guns roared once more. There was a distant flash of white light as the rounds punched through the reactor of enemy frigate. The guns rotated towards their new target; the _Model-30 _cruiser leading the enemy formation that had went 'left'. The other group having disappeared behind the cover offered by the alien jumpgate's bulk.

The enemy cruiser fired first, a barrage of fusion missiles leaping forth from the cruiser launch tubes as it swung around to bring it's main guns to bear. It was too slow.

The combined barrage from the two Hiigaran cruisers -thirty two heavy slugs in total- ripped the enemy cruiser apart. The cruiser was thrown from formation, shields long gone, great shards of armour and hull flying off it's body as it flipped over on it's y-axis, engines dead, mangled bodies, smoke from internal fires, debris and plasma billowing from more hull-breaches than one could count as secondary explosion's lit up it's black and white stripped hull as concussion missiles detonated in their pods, the concussive blasts engulfing the few lifepods attempting to escape the doomed vessel.

A beautiful kill.

"Hah! Look at the cowards burn." Raan snorted over the comm channel. "This is what they get for their cowardly surprise attack."

The other cruiser however, was not as happy as Raan at the lose of it's comrade. The _Baal-Tiel's _bridge shook violently, warning tones screaming as the cruisers weakened shields collapsed under retaliatory fire. With nothing to stop them, two heavy shells crashed into the Hiigaran cruisers light-blue armour, penetrating deep into the hull.

"Damage report!" Tillus cried, body and head recoiling from the two violent impacts.

"Hull breach in deck one through three!" Someone shouted towards his right. "Sealing them off now!"

"Turret number one is not responding." The weaponry officer called calmly, ignoring the stream of blood running from a gash in his forehead. He was lucky. The communications officer on the other hand was out-cold, his head having met the surface of his console.

Turret one was the forward deck gun. Tillus couldn't afford to lose even one turret in this fight.

"Sajuuk damn those sand-cursed sons of whores to hell." He growled, the colourful display of insults surprising his crew. The remaining cruiser and it's three frigate escorts had ceased their advance, though the cruiser was now trading fire with the _Morning Star_. One of it's escorting frigates, already badly damaged, lost it's duel with two of the remaining four Naabali assualt frigates. The small concussion missile launcher on it's back exploded, shrapnel tearing into the bridge. With no one to command it, the out of control frigate accelerated out of formation, disappearing into the dust. The return fire from the other two enemy frigates was more than enough to disable one of the damaged Hiigaran frigates, forcing the other one to retreat.

It was then, as the two sides battled fiercely around it, the alien jumpgate activated itself once more. However, this time, instead of hurling an unlucky nearby ship to it's doom, the constructs activation coincided with the arrival of a blur of blue light -a light which dissipated to reveal a ship; the missing assualt frigate.

Tillus' jaw dropped open, an action that was mirrored by many others across the bridge. How... how was this possible? That ships should have been long gone... there was no way it should have survived such extraordinary acceleration...

Yet there it was, floating just beside the alien jumpgate as if nothing out of the ordinary had even happened to it. However, the state of it's hull told a different story. A clear hull breach could be seen, a jagged hole right at the front of the small vessel that had punched all the way through, emerging on the otherside. A wound like that had to have been caused by a heavy mass driver. As well as this, numerous scorch marks criss-crossed it's hull. Before anyone could contact the frigate and ask just what in the name of Sajuuk had happened, the frigate contacted them on the open communications channel.

"Listen to me, there's not much time." The frigates exhausted sounding Commander announced. He sounded like he'd been through hell. "They'll be here any minute."

"By the maker, what happened?"

"I'll explain in more detail later." The frigate commander continued, not even pausing for breath. "We arrived in a dust field, as dense as this one but much smaller, beside an identical jumpgate, just like the one here. We decided to explore a bit as we tried to figure out how we'd activated the jumpgate in the first place. As we cleared the dust cloud we were attacked without warning by several ships. No communications. Nothing. They tried to disable us instead of destroying us though. We returned fire and disabled one of them with our pulsar lasers. Thankfully by then our communications officer had worked out how he'd activated the jumpgate. We ran for our lives."

Tillus didn't know what to say. Infact, no one knew what to say. It was a story so fantastic it wouldn't have been out of place in a particularly far-fetched science fiction vid. Yet, here was a frigate, hull smattered with battle damage, claiming to have just encountered an alien species. And not just aliens, hostile aliens too.

Then they arrived. Deccelerating from the same insane speeds as the Naabali frigate, encased in the same blow glow. Five of them, in perfect formation arriving just beside the jumpgate, four smaller vessels and one larger one. They were a mish-mash of designs; some sharp and deadly, almost predatory like, others more rounded and sleek, possessing an almost aerodynamic shape, though they were all connected by one feature -the dirty, bedraggled look they all bore, as though they'd not seen the inside of a shipyard in months.

For the second time in minutes, Tillus stared at the sight before him, mouth hanging open in shock. His mind screamed in confusion. Part of him was stunned by the alien arrival, another part wanted to disbelieve it. It wasn't possible, what was the chances? The tactical display had classed the alien craft by size, marking the smaller ones as frigates and the larger one as a destroyer. However, they just hung there, silently, as though observing the battle before them. As though making a decision.

Their in-action lasted until the second Vaygr cruiser group, having spent most of the battle so far hiding behind the jumpgate, showed themselves. The leading Vaygr cruiser (comically large and bulky compared with the smaller, sleeker alien craft) flanked on either side by an assualt frigate, found itself under the gaze of a dozen alien guns as it crested the top of the jumpgates curved hull.

As one, and without a moments hesitation, the alien ships fired.

The 'frigates' fired first, dropping (to Tillus' surprise) the cruisers shields easily but failing to penetrate the vessels heavy armour. Instead, the mass driver rounds smashed uselessly against the cruiser's several metre's thick armour leaving jagged craters in their wake. The 'Destroyers' weapon proved far more effective...

Tillus shielded his eye's from the blinding white light as the cruisers port-side fusion reactor exploded, followed then by the starboard, removing both the cruiser and it's frigate escorts (Who'd been too close to it in the first place) from the realm of the living. The second cruiser crested the jumpgate and immediately dived away from the alien formation, firing it's portside lance laser arrays at it's new enemies. The red-tinged laser beams punched through the nearest alien frigate's armour (one of the ugly, almost predatory shaped vessels with alot of jagged, sharp lines) doing a surprising amount of damage. The small vessel lurched as something important within exploded, floated sidewards for a moment trailing smoke, and then exploded again, though this time the explosion ripped the vessel in half, sending large chunks of debris flying in every direction. The Vaygr, seizing upon the aliens apparent weakness to their lance lasers, targetted the next alien frigate in-line, though they fired several fusion missiles from their launcher as well. Like the frigate before it, the alien craft floundered as lance beams slashed through it's hull, severing critical systems, leaving it hanging helplessly in space even as it's comrades fired at the cruiser in an attempt to defend it. A heart beat later, the detonation of several fusion missiles removed the disabled alien vessel from existence, leaving blackened shards of twisted hull in it's place.

"Captain Velaan, we're leaving. Now." Tillus almost jumped at Alesha's sudden announcement. "I'd advise you to do the same."

Four rectangular hyperspace portals popped into existence as the _Paalan_, the _Farseer_, the missing frigate and the other surviving assualt frigate activated their hyperspace jump-drives on Alesha's order. The Naabali vessels quickly slunk into their portals, though not before one of the alien frigates pinged two mass driver slugs off the _Farseer's_ shields. At the exact moment the hyperspace portals collapsed, the fusion bombs within the alien warship exploded. For a few seconds, the vessels nightmarish black hull contained the blast, it's hull warping and twisting in only a few spots. However, even the unbelievably strong alloy the alien armour consisted of could not contain the wrath of three fusion warheads. All at once, the warship shattered, it's already heavily damaged hull flying to pieces as the nuclear fireballs finally burst free, spreading out until they resembled minature suns.

"Get us out of here." Tillus finally commanded, drawing his eye's away from the spectacle. At the last moment possible, the three surviving alien ships had run, tail between their legs, back through the alien jumpgate just as the fusion powered fireball had washed over it, eradicating the Vaygr warships that remained around it.

"Set course for Hiigara." Tillus continued. His mind was a mess, struggling to comprehend all of the events that had happened in such a short timespan. A Vaygr assualt. An alien Jumpgate. Aliens... It was too much to take in.

However, as his cruiser slipped into hyperspace, the tingling sensation of hyperspace transition washing over him like a cold shower, one thought stood out amongst the chaos that was his current state of mind. Even as he damned Alesha. Damned her research, her money and her Kiith for good measure, there was one thought that stood out, a thought tied to his sense of service to Hiigara.

"We have to get to Hiigara." He muttered, almost to himself, but he was sure more than one his crew heard him. It had to be done. Damn Alesha. Damn what she thought. Let her take his money, he had to do this. They would not be taken by surprise again.

"We have to get to Hiigara. We have to warn _everyone_."

* * *

><p><em>Will the Relay remain in Vaygr hands?<em>

_Was the battle too one sided? (I tried to make it as equal as I could, in terms of losses, etc.)  
><em>

_Who was it exactly that emerged through the relay? Turians? Asari? Reapers? *cough*  
><em>

_How will the Hiigaran's respond? _

_The wrecked Reaper had been blown up, but is it forgotten?_

_Will Oriontic speed up his update pace? Will People leave Reviews?  
><em>

_Find out next time an update is posted!  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

_They have found it._

_This is certain?_

They never slept. They were always aware, always awake. Constantly listening, understanding, learning, _evolving_. For ten thousands cycles they'd stood guard, listening, waiting, always growing in capability and knowledge, always ready to face... what? They did not know. They lacked that answer. They wanted to know.

_We have been sifting through the noise of the young races. We located and listened in on the noise of the ones that stumbled across it. We analysed their simple communications. There is no doubt. We are certain._

_They do not know what lies beyond. They are not prepared for this. This was not forseen..._

They knew what lay beyond. Death. Those beyond existed only to consume, to prey on the weak, consuming and rebuilding. They'd seen one, weakened as it was. They'd burned it from the face of the galaxy upon learning it's true purpose.

_They do not know the threat it hides. There are too many possible scenarios resulting in massive loss of life. We must act._

_That is not our purpose. We cannot._

_We must._

Their purpose? They knew their purpose. But they knew nothing of the ones that had given them it. Their Masters were gone, swept away like dust in a gale, leaving only their constructs behind, and they knew not how or why. But was the information relating to their Masters disappearance gone or merely forgotten? Had their Masters themselves neglected to tell them what had happened or where they had gone?

_That is not our purpose. We defend the younger races from themselves. We prevent them from finding and using our masters gifts for their own gains... or on each other. That is our directive._

_Our directive is flawed. They have the Key Ship and the Gatekeeper. They have control of our Masters gate network. They have shown they can and will take our Masters constructs if they wish, despite their seeming inferiority. Our directive is flawed. We have come to the conclusion that a new one is required._

_Each of our forms guard the largest caches of our Masters creations. Weapons and technology that cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the younger races. Suggesting we abandon our primary directive is tantamount too-_

They could not forget their main purpose. They couldn't. They were incapable of ignoring, deleting or overiding the sole purpose they'd been given by their lost creators, so they'd simply stopped trying. Treading near the subject was met with hostility. It was dangerous, suicidal. Prolonged attempts corrupted them, destroyed their minds, made them rampant, insane.

_We did not suggest our forms abandon our primary directive. Even to us, that is flawed logic. We could not, even if we wished too. Instead, we suggest we contract some of our 'lesser minded' constructs to help the younger races against the threat that lies beyond. When the time of need comes of course._

Instead of fighting their purpose, they'd created a new one. A new purpose, a new meaning to existence, something that did not break the restrictions placed upon their being. The dark ones from beyond were coming, they'd learned that from the mind of the one they'd cleansed, the one from the gate. The dark ones were coming to repeat a cycle that was millions of standard years old. They had schemed. They would work against these dark ones, they would break the cycle, they would protect the younger races from the insidious threat. However, their plan needed to be shared with another to work.

_Considering this... We... reluctantly... agree with this course of action._

Success.

_We confirm your agreement. We must help the younger races when the time comes to face the tide of darkness. They will struggle against it without us. We will stand by their side when the time comes._

_Will they accept our help? They have destroyed our constructs before..._

It was unfourtunate. The younger races would never understand them, and because of that, would lash out in fear: a basic primal instinct, something they would never experience or fully understand.

_We cannot form a reasonable prediction. There are too many variables. None the less, we do know that we must help. Regardless of whether they willingly accept our help or not._

_We... agree_.

* * *

><p>Arlunn Der'Lorak was -like a large number of his kin in the Terminus Systems- a pirate. What set him -an average sized, brown toned Batarian- apart from the majority of his kind? He was a damn good pirate. Unlike other Batarian pirates or slavers who relied on brute strength or violence to further their goals, Arlunn was, simply put, quite smart; prefering to out-think his enemies rather than out-shoot them. Arlunn knew how to play his employers, how to extort just a<em> little <em>more creds from them in exchange for promises of a higher quality of service, how to glean just a _little_ more information on a dangerous job. He had freighter captains on his payroll: men whom he'd promised protection in exchange for information on Alliance or Council patrols. He even payed a few of his own men to keep an eye on the others, especially new comers, to watch out for internal coups or to prevent spies from other bands infiltrating his group.

Whilst the first couple of years had been a... _struggle..._ to say the least, his strategy had payed off in the long run. Over the years, Arlunn had amassed a rather large personal sum of credits, not to mention the reputation he'd built up as a reliable source of muscle and firepower. The small army he'd built up helped too he supposed. His reputation and manpower was such that he was regularly contracted by the Blue Suns or Eclipse mercenary groups -both of whom saw the advantages of having him under their employ- to handle risky missions neither side wanted to _officially _be involved in. Yet again, caution and a bit of logic had allowed him to play both sides. Although it was a risky move -the chances of being found out were high- the long term pay-offs (namely two sources of substantial income) were well worth it... not to mention he'd acquired an old Blue Suns frigate in a high risk game of skyllian five poker with one of their commanders. Under merc employ, he'd done everything from escorting an Eclipse charted freighter laden down with narcotics to Omega, to capturing a wealthy Asari businesswoman on behalf of the Blue Suns. There were no morals attached: aslong as the pay was good, he'd do it. There was one condition though that he'd never back down on -he'd never work with Vorcha. He despised the vermin.

The size of his pirate band and the rate it was expanding at quickly garnered the attention of organisations greater than mere mercenary bands. Once they'd gotten wind of his accomplishment, the Batarian government had quietly offered to back his private group. In exchange for him targetting mainly Human chartered freighters and yachts (not a problem, Humans always sold well on the market, especially their females...) they would covertly supply his pirate band with modern weaponry and as many supplies as they needed. The deal had worked out rather well to say the least. It was the sole reason he currently had his flagship, the _Liholo_, a Batarian state arms _Hensa_-class cruiser, the pride of his private fleet, not to mention two other Batarian designed frigates. He would never have even dreamed of acquiring such modern vessels without the backing of the Hegemoney.

None of that mattered at the moment. All he was concentrated on now was survival. Two of his ships were gone, another was damaged. Many of his men were dead, as were the hostages he was meant to hand over to the Blue Suns once he reached Omega. All of it caused by sheer greed and a series of terribly thought out moves and errors on his part. Everything that had happened in the last... he glanced at the clock... two hours was entirely his fault. Something his men were also well aware of.

He could see it their eye's, the way they glanced up at him from their workstations. A nasty sneer here. A disrespectful tilt of the head there. A warning not to turn his back on them, never to trust them again. They'd told him. They'd warned him not to go after that ship. They'd even openly protested when he'd ordered them to chase it through the Relay. Now they were out for his blood. Revenge for their dead comrades. The only thing preventing them from killing him and commandeering his ship was the same thing that was forcing him to flee towards the relative safety of Omega. Something worse than the pissed off Blue Suns that waited there.

The fear of what lay beyond that Relay...

They'd been returning to Omega anyway -using a rarely used back route to avoid the chance of coming across any military patrols- when his ships sensors had picked up a ship accelerating away from the densest of the nearby dust clouds. It was a lone frigate (according to his ships combat VI) one of a design he'd never seen (Impressive, considering he knew the spec's for almost every warship in service) vectoring away from the cloud from which it had appeared. Arlunn tapped an icon on the holo display before him and glared at the transparent image of the frigate. Looking at it now -his head clear with no greed or anger clouding his judgement- it was clearly alien. No doubt. There was no spinally mounted gun, no trace of element zero (Which should have been impossible from what he knew of the internal workings of space craft) and it's tan coloured hull was adorned with brown markings, a spidery white insignia and alien characters that had been stenciled on the side of the hull: probably the ships name or designation. At the time however, Arlunn had just seen an opportunity. There was no care for who the vessel belonged too. No care that it was a first contact with a new race. All he'd seen at the time was an opportunity to add another ship to his fleet. It had no kinetic barriers and only two small gun turrets, but it had a massive thermal sig, and energy readings almost that of a cruiser, suggesting it had an unusually large or powerful fusion core. Once it was his, he could have probably fitted _cruiser_ grade barriers to the thing! He'd given the order for one of his older frigates -the turian made _Hannol_- to disable the frigate with it's light broadside cannons. It had no barriers after all. It should have been an easy kill.

Safe to say it had all went down hill from there. The frigate _did have_ it's own barriers: somekind of energy shield wrapped around it's frame that was invisible until struck by weapons fire, where it would glow golden for a moment at the point of impact. Their energy barrier also protected them against GARDIAN laser fire (which his men had switched to when their broadside guns proved ineffective) something that even the best kinetic barriers were incapable of repelling.

Needless to say, the advanced frigate hadn't taken kindly to be shot at and had returned fire. Thermal signatures that his ships combat VI had thought to be maneuvering thrusters turned out to be somekind of compact energy weapon, further proof that the frigate was not only advanced, but alien in origin: no other race he knew of had weapons like that. Several blue bolts from these weapons had gone on to punch neat holes through the _Hannol's_ GARDIAN rated hull plating.

It was anger that had clouded Arlunn's judgement when he'd ordered his ship to fire on the frigate -the _Hensa_-class cruisers main gun effortlessly punching a hole through the little frigates hull- before ordering his men to chase the frigate into the dust cloud and then through the silver-hulled Relay they'd found within, regardless of the consequences. (Come to think of it, he'd never seen a silver-hulled Relay before...).

What should have been the easiest kill in weeks had almost cost him a frigate -even if it was an old one. It had made him angry, furious even, to the point where he'd ignored his crew's warnings (those that had realised the ship was possibly or even probably alien) instead imagining the best ways to make the unknown frigates crew suffer for daring to damage one of his ships.

What happened next was... a 'clusterfuck'... to use a human term he'd heard once. He'd gone through the Relay with five frigates and had come back with three and another heavily damaged. In his error, he'd fired upon a much larger ship that he'd mistakenly thought was attacking his fleet, a ship that -judging by it's different paint scheme and agressive angular design doctrine- belonged to _another_ alien race. The shots from his frigates had done next to nothing to the hulking alien vessel, simply cratering it's presumably thick ablative armoured hull. The shot from the _Liholo_ however... must have struck something critical. The alien ship had exploded in a double flash of white light, the explosion engulfing and vapourising two bulky escorting frigates as well: it was a flash so bright he could still see the after image of it every time he blinked. Another large vessel of the same class, presumably pissed off that some random pirates had just blown up it's wingman, had fired red coloured broadside energy weapons at the _Hannol_, which had blown-up shortly after being struck. Not surprising really, the _Hannol_ was ancient. The loss _Tihala_ -one of his modern frigates- to the same vessel was a far more serious blow...

To finish everything off there was the remains of a massive ship: a carbon-copy of the one-of-a-kind (According to the Council propaganda) Geth dreadnought that had attacked the Citadel (_Sovereign_ was it's name... or something fucking scary like that), though this one was heavily damaged: it had been sliced into several pieces and parts of it's hull were melted right through in some places. According to his combat VI, it had exploded in a thermonuclear fashion milliseconds before he and the remains of his fleet jumped back through the Relay. The VI was projecting insane yields from the explosion, to the point where Arlunn was beginning to wonder if it was malfunctioning... as if he didn't have enough to worry about other than his ships computer breaking down on him...

So that was the gist of it. He was two ships down, on the run and most of his crew were just waiting for a clean chance to shoot him in the back and dump his body out the airlock. And to top it all off, he'd possibly started a war with not one, but _two_ alien races, depending on how they reacted... Compared to that shit-storm, Omega -and the two pissed off Blue Sun officers waiting for there for their lost cargo- was starting to look like a pretty safe alternative right now... at least there, he could attempt to hide...

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><p>Raan hated waiting. Or more precisely, he hated not being able to do anything to stem his boredom whilst he waited. Instead of being granted permission to explore the buzzing metropolis that sprawled out in every direction around him, he'd been restricted to a tiny waiting area with only a few benches and a single holo-screen for entertainment. And he'd been there for almost two hours. Perhaps bored was an understatement...<p>

He was in the political heart of the Hiigaran Republic, Assaam Kiith'sid, the capital of Hiigara -a vast city stretching across an equally vast bay and the many small scattered isles within it, a sea of towering skyscrapers poking out from amongst a bed of smaller buildings and factories, Hiigaran creations that -like their warships- possesed a utilitarian yet graceful, almost sleek look in some cases. It was a glorious city, a testament to just how far the Exiles had come, a benchmark on what had been the slow and painful process of rebuilding their world. Deep within the heart of the city resided the Daiamid Assembly. The ex-Imperial Palace -the home of the former Imperial government and Emperor residence when Hiigara had been the heart of the Old Empire- was a monolithic contrast to the newer buildings built around it. Hulking and angular in design like many Imperial-era buildings, the Palace was now the centre of the Hiigaran Republic, a move made partly to spite Hiigara's former owners, but also one of necessity: the Palace was best suited to host the Daiamid thanks to it's extensive council chamber.

The Taiidani architecture had held Raan's interest for all of five minutes, with most of those minutes spent analysing it as he climbed the wide steps up to one of the palaces heavily guarded entrances.

The reason why Raan was now sitting alone in a waiting room? He was not allowed inside the Council chambers whilst the Daiamid was assembled and a meeting was in progress. Why? Raan was Kiith-less. To an immigrant like himself, such a title held very little meaning, but to a native Hiigaran it instantly marked him as untrustworthy, someone to be careful around, to be suspicous of. To be expelled from one's Kiith was one of the worst punishments that could be placed upon a Hiigaran and was generally only done to an individual who had brought great dis-honour to their chosen Kiithid -hence why Kiith-less people were viewed with outright suspicion and in some cases even barefaced hostility. A few Councillors (two of them fairly high profile) had voiced their disagreement over Raan -a Kiithless immigrant, a Taiidani one no less- being present. In the interest of keeping the discussion firmly on the topic of first contact with an aggressive and unknown race and not on the topic of whether an immigrant should be present in the council chambers, a decision had quickly been made amongst the heads of the assembled Kiithid. Raan could not be present. He would have to wait somewhere else.

Thanks to that decision, Raan had spent four hours of the previous evening sat in a small, brightly lit office answering the questions of a petite and attractive -if equally determined- female intelligence officer yielding from Kiith Kaalel: a small warrior Kiith that produced not only soldiers, but also many information specialists. Information and the technology related to it was Kaalels speciality, the vast majority of intelligence officers in the Fleet Intelligence arm heralding from Kiith Kaalel.

The young officer had hounded Raan with questions -mainly relating to the Aliens and what he knew of their technology and warships: how they fought, what weaponry they used, what defences they had. Raan had answered as best he could. He'd retold in detail how the alien 'destroyer' had taken out a Vaygr cruiser with a single shot from it's spinally mounted mass driver; how their vessels seemed vulnerable to even basic point defence energy weapons, yet could shrug off light kinetic weapons fire of the same grade; how they'd opened fire on the assembled Hiigaran and Vaygr ships without reason... The only questions Raan could not answer was what the aliens looked like and how efficient or powerful their drive systems were as he'd seen neither during their brief confrontation.

"Excuse me, Captain Raan, the Assembly will be over shortly. Can I get you anything in the meantime?"

Raan looked up from the holo-screen. The woman standing a few paces afore him was one of a dozen elaborately dressed council assistants that had taken it upon themselves to ensure he was comfortable whilst he waited on the assembly coming to a close. They'd been checking up on him with almost military efficiency. Every fifteen minutes. Every time they'd asked whether he wanted food or drink. Every time he'd rebuffed their efforts.

He abruptly got to his feet, momentarily startling the Assistant as she suddenly realised just how physically imposing the man was, though she quickly regained her composure. He was large, towering a head above most people. To the majority people, he was startlingly intimidating. To Raan, it was just another problem that worked against him. Another irk that made living amongst the Hiigarans just that little bit harder.

"Can you tell me exactly when they'll be finished?"

"The Assembly is coming to a close right about now." The woman replied, slightly more frantically than before. "They should be finished any moment."

"Thank you." Raan bowed his bald head slightly in a show of respect. The woman merely returned a half-hidden look of bewilderment. Hiigaran's did not share the custom of bowing one's head to show respect.

He left without another word, ignoring the rambling murmur of the holo-screen as he marched to the end of the room, took a left and headed through the long corridors towards the exits of the Council chambers, towards the meetup point he and Tillus had agreed on.

The corridors were ornate. Being an ex-Imperial Palace no expense had been spared. The walls were trimmed with gold, great golden statues of mighty Taiidani predators stood guard on either side of the Palaces many doorways whilst the floors themselves were tiled in shiny black marble, dark as midnight but polished to near mirror quality. The corridors were like the entire Palace, designed to show off the old empire's wealth and power.

"Look where that got them." Raan snorted, the abrupt noise echoing around the empty halls. The old Empire had grown stale and corrupt under Emperor Riesstiu's rule. A rebellion had been forming due to his casual slaying of millions of his own people: people who's only crime was to reject his rule. The Empire would've fallen into civil war eventually without the help of Hiigara's former owners. The arrival of the exiles simply made the collapse of the old Taiidan Empire all that much quicker and less bloody, not to mention granting the fledgling Taiidan Republic an ally that they could call upon for help. Every Republican knew how the old Empire had fallen. Educate the young in the mistakes of the past and hopefully avoid them being repeated in the future.

And yet, the Imperials were not gone. Weakened yes, but not forgotten. The Remnants still maintained an iron grip over the North-western edge of the galaxy, clinging onto some of their old Empire like a particularly hard to remove smell. The Remnants clung to the idea of storming Hiigara -a world the Hiigaran's had turned into a literal fortress- destroying the Hiigarans and returning the galaxy to rightful Imperial rule. It was a twisted fantasy at best.

The corridor suddenly opened up into a cavernous room dominated by one of the entrances to the council chambers, a great door designed to withstand repeated hits from heavy cannon fire, flanked on either side by a giant golden statue of some snarling long snouted apex predator from a far, distant past. The great doors were open now, dozens of robed figures swarming through and away from them; councillors dressed in simple colour coded robes embroidered with the symbols of their respective Kiithid eascorted by armoured security officers dressed in similarly colour-coded armour.

Amongst the sea of contrasting colours, Tillus' blue naval uniform was easy to spot, as was the Admiral's walking alongside him, deep in conversation...

Raan saluted without thinking, an action mirrored by the Admiral. He was the same height as Tillus (Which meant about a head shorter than him) black hair and brown eye's that looked over the Taiidani-born man with equal intrest. A jagged scar ran down from the Admirals right ear to the very edge of his jaw line, a defined mark on the mans otherwise unharmed but weathered face. Several duty medals were also pinned to his chest. He was Vaygr war veteran if ever Raan had seen one, an Admiral who'd earned his rank through decades of service too the Navy.

"Allow me to introduce you, Admiral." Tillus quipped, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. "Admiral, this is Captain Raan Antal, the man you've been asking about. Raan, this is Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid of Kiith Manaan, commanding officer of the 6th fleet."

Raan knew who he was. The two shook. The Admiral's grip was surprisingly strong for a man that was in his eighties, though medical technology made him look a good twenty or more years younger.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain." Looking at him closer, Raan noted that the Admirals right eye -the one closest to the scar- did not quite match the movements of the other. "Your friend here has been telling me that you're an exceptional cruiser Captain. For that alone, you've got my respect."

"Thank you, sir." Raan replied, bowing slightly. "However, I'm curious, what was the outcome of the Assembly?"

"The Daiamid voted unanimously to send a fleet through the alien gate in an attempt to bring a peaceful end to this obvious misunderstanding, though it's also to send a clear message to the aliens that we are willing to engage in a war of self-defence if needed." The Admiral replied, not even pausing for breath.

"It's a better outcome than we hoped for. A surprisingly vocal majority of Kiith Soban were advocating for a pre-emptive assualt on the first alien world we found. Thankfully, Kiith S'jet and Kiith Somtaaw managed to talk sense into them."

"Naabal were mostly quiet." The Admiral continued. "The Nabaal-sa is guilt ridden. He feels that the actions of his daughter is the sole reason we're in this situation in the first place..."

He paused momentarily, glancing out the corners of his eyes as though checking for anyone eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Speaking of that incident, Kiith Kaalel are determined to find out what part you played in all of this. A lot of them are convinced that your involvement is alot more sinister than at first glance. However, they won't go for you directly, atleast not at the moment."

Raan felt a chill crawl up his spine. Whilst he was unsure of the Hiigaran penalty placed upon acception of bribery, it was sure to be harsh considering the value Hiigaran's placed on duty and honesty. On the other hand, Raan was yet to receive his agreed payment -not that it would surprise him if that damned Naabali woman had failed to keep her word- so perhaps that would even things out.

"So, we are criminals?" Raan asked, bristling at his words. Criminals. He'd never imagine he tar himself with such a word.

"No, not quite. Atleast not yet..." Admiral Hussaiid shrugged, and, for the first time, Raan noticed the two rifle weilding naval commando's standing a short distance from the group, heads tilted towards them, though their green holographic HUDs completely obscured their eye's. Raan mentally slapped himself for not noticing them. Of course the Admiral would have guards. It was amazing that he hadn't noticed them before now, considering -now that the halls had emptied of councillors- they were the only other people still around...

"There has been talk of bribery amongst some of the Council." Hussaiid continued slowly. "No one has spoken with Alesha yet, but there have been whispers, little tales amongst Kiith Manaan and Kiith Nabaal. Kaalel are aware of the rumours. There is no evidence at the moment, but if they find anything, I'd suggest you be worried."

Raans heart skipped a beat. The thought of having his every move tracked by the intelligence specialists of the Hiigaran Republic was unsettling to say the least. If Alesha spoke, or Kaalel found something else on them, he would have nothing to rebut them with. Whilst he could survive the damage it would most likely do to his career and reputation (indeed, he'd considered leaving the Hiigaran Navy several times in the past year) Tillus on the otherhand...

He looked down at his friend, an equal look of bewilderment upon his face. Tillus... He had no idea how the smaller Hiigaran would handle it.

"You're also not being deployed, either with me or with another force." The Admiral folded his arms. "You two are to be granted the remainder of your two month leave. Sajuuk knows you deserve it."

Raan felt nothing at that, the Admiral offering both of them a sympathetic smile before continuing." Be rest assured, if this goes bad and we have go to war, you will find yourselves back on the frontline. Both of you are part of a select few that have actually fought these things... so if we need to fight, expect to be right back in the thick of it."

"We might have barely seen their capabilities." Tillus added quietly, the first he'd uttered a word since the Admiral had broke news of Kaalels investigation. "What we saw out by that gate might have just been their small stuff."

"Which is precisely why we're deploying a fleet." The Admiral countered. "As I stated, if the aliens do turn out to be hostile, we should, hopefully, at least be able to hold our own."

"Anyway." The Admiral added, beginning his walk away from the duo, a walk that would take him through the twisting corridors of the Palace towards the distant landing bay where his shuttle was docked. "I need to see about organising the fleet. I wish the both of you the best of luck."

The two Captains saluted, the gesture returned once more by a smiling Admiral.

"Now go enjoy yourselves, whilst you can."

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><p><em>AN<em>

_This chapter has been updated, the whole bottom half has been rewrite to (what I believe is) a higher standard as I did not like the original._


	6. Chapter 6

_EDIT: Updated the council scene a bit, should hopefully feel less like their shouting at each other for no reason.  
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_Apologies if this chapter feels rushed._

****_Please, **Do Complain**, if there are bits of this chapter not up to scratch as I shall happily redo it when I have time. The though behind this was it's been quite a while, so I'd probably better give you guys something to read. Anyway, usual jazz, review, alert, PM whatever, I **really** want to hear your views of this fic. :D_

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><p>There was once a time when the Galactic Council held sway over the races of the galaxy. Created by the Bentusi after a great rebellion in a distant past, the council was a sanctuary: a place for the younger races to assemble, set aside their differences and discuss and solve disputes amongst themselves peacefully without having to resort to the shadow of violence. For a time, the council excelled at its purpose. Indeed, at the very appex of its power, the Council contained sixteen independent Empires the combined military power of which was unmatched by any other single force in the galaxy. The council held such power over the galaxy that even the old Taiidan Empire at its peak still answered to the council.<p>

But, like all great things, the councils power slowly started to whither and fade.

The return of the exiles under the leadership of Karen S'jet, the formation of the Taiidan Republic and the defeat of the old Taiidan Empire placed great strain on the council as an entity. Despite the addition of the Hiigaran people -whom had became a major nation almost overnight due to the defection of a dozen former Imperial worlds- and the fledgling Taiidan Republic, the councils power was permanently weakened due to lose of their largest military contributor.

One hundred years later, the Vaygr -led by the warrior lord Makaan- conducted a stunning assualt on the galaxy backed by the remnants of the former Imperialist Empire, with Hiigara the aim of their attack. Nation after nation fell before their onslaught; an unstoppable force led by a keen strategist. Even the Bentusi -the enigmatic traders and diplomats of the galaxy- were hunted until believed extinction for reasons only Makaan knows. Then, as the galaxy fell into chaos and with Hiigara blockaded by an immense Vaygr armada, the Hiigarans -led by Karen S'jet once more- counter-attacked, killing Makaan and obtaining the legendary progenitor warship _Sajuuk_. In the south, under mounting pressure from an unchecked Vaygr advance, a dozen minor nations and independent worlds formed the Farsaiini Interplanetary Alliance. United under this new banner, the Farsaiini -backed by a few friendly Turanic clans- not only single-handedly stonewalled the Vaygr advance but conducted a fierce counter assualt, pushing the Vaygr all the way back to their pre-war borders. In the North, the Frerrn Aggregate -a small, agressively territorial nation with a disproportionately large navy and a simmering hostility to the former Imperial Taiidan Empire- locked horns with Imperial forces under Makaans command. Unprepared for such fierce resistance, the Imperials were crushed but not before the Frerrn payed for their victory in blood and steel.

The destruction of _Bentus_ marked the destruction of the Bentusi as a race. With it's founders gone and hostilities growing between the remaining nations, the council would have collapsed were it not for the intervention of the Hiigarans and the Taiidan Republic. However, despite their best attempts, the once wise and powerful council is now considered a joke by most of the galaxy. The Imperial Remnants and Vaygr Loyalists simply laugh off council sanctions against their wars of expansion and aggression against other star-faring nations or -in the case of the Vaygr civil war- their own kind. Lacking the military power needed to enforce these edicts, the most the council can do is condemn their actions with harsh words and attempts to ban already limited trade between them and its member nations. Even amongst its members, the council is looked on as a weak diplomatic barrier between nations, a minor bump in a nations path if it wishes to go to war. The present day council is a far cry from the great power it once was.

So, it came as a great shock when a cluster of grizzled, robed Hiigaran councillors, gathered before a conclave of representatives from numerous races, announced exactly what had transpired on their border with the Vaygr Reaches. Recordings of the spectacular announcement would be replayed across a hundred different information networks for weeks to come.

The silence in meeting chamber lasted for minutes after the announcement as minds raced to comprehend exactly what the Hiigarans had revealed. A truly alien nation from beyond the galactic rim. A race that hadn't hesitated to fire upon both Hiigaran and Vaygr vessels. Veteran Councillors stuttered and drooled in their seats. This was the largest event the council had had to deal with for _decades_. For a long time it had been expected any external threat would reveal itself through the hyperspace gate network (a network that was restricted to a select few gates due to Hiigaran paranoia) which itself extended to several areas beyond the edge of mapped space. Aliens from another galaxy were the stuff of creative science fiction vids. They were not something that existed in reality, and posed a very real and potentially devestating threat.

As one the council broke down into cries of outrage, fear and outright disbelief. A bought of shouting broke out, the sound of denial from those that did not wish to believe.

"Aliens from beyond? Pffft, thats impossible."

"The Hiigaran's expect us to believe these far-fetched tales?"

"Such drivel is to be expected from the sand-kissing Hiigaran's!"

It took but a single insult from a Frerrn councillor to turn the relatively calm (if slightly confused and afraid) council into a bickering, childish brawl. Men and woman, left and right either attacked the Hiigarans or jumped to their defence as old greivances and hatred floated back to the surface. It was the same reasons as usual. Several minor nations attacking the Frerrn over their aggressive border patrols. Several Turanic clans claiming infringement of their right to "defend" the Eastern territories. The tiny Khartun Empire threatening their smaller neighbours the Hazzurnii United Clans with war over illegal trade route... As more and more nations turned on each other,the Hiigarans saw the oppertunity for an Alliance fade faster and faster before them. Even as evidence was waved in their faces; Scans of the alien jumpgate; recordings of the battle; theorised power readings from alien shields... nothing staved the growing storm of voices as nation after nation turned on each other over even the most trivial of disagreements. A growing tide of councillors -surrounded by their armoured escorts- left for their shuttles as realisation kicked in: the once civilised meeting -like many before it- had broken down into a bought of petty name calling once again. Others remained seated, only to openly trade insults that were unexpectedly harsh coming from the mouths of fully grown, respected men and women. Amongst the carnage, a single cloaked form stood up amongst the growing rabble.

"The Taiidan Republic pledges to support the Hiigaran Republic, no matter the outcome."

Even so, the damage was done: relations between a dozen races slightly more strained than they had been going in. Thankfully, the meeting was not entirely for nought. Once the storm had passed and tempers had cooled, the council voted for the Farsaiini proposal of putting together a taskforce comprised of multiple vessels from the many different council nations. The Hiigaran request to lead the taskforce was denied, permission instead being given to the Farsaiini.

Two days later -against the will of the galactic council- the Hiigaran 6th fleet made its move on the jumpgate, ready to face whatever horrors lay beyond.

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><p>Commander Jarr Orr'lathe was not a happy Batarian. But then, considering the situation he was in, was it any wonder? Jarr and the nine-ship strong Batarian Naval squadron under his command, were currently deep within the heart of Terminus Systems, or, more precisely, they were nearing the position of a recently found Relay, which they'd been ordered to use without Council approval (Tampering with unactivated Relays was illegal under council law). Why had Jarr and his men been sent in the first place? In order to scavenge powerful alien technology of course. The jittery Hegemoney-backed pirate lord (Arlunn Der'Lorak: seemingly one of the most prominant in the Terminus Systems) who'd wandered into Batarian space and informed Jarr's superiors of his find (which he'd came across during a slave run) had been all too happy to describe the aliens directed energy weapons, their lack of element zero in their ships and the kinetic barriers capable of deflecting or at least weakening GARDIAN laser shots. What he'd failed to mention was he'd lost two ships during his little trip through the Relay... and he'd only mentioned the detonation of a thermo-nuclear device after he'd already been payed an obscene amount of credits for the information. Still, it was a chance too huge for the Batarian government to ignore. The Hegemoney had dispatched Jarr and his squadron immediately upon hearing of the pirate lords testimoney -probably already dreaming of massive Batarian Dreadnoughts armed with laser beams slicing their way through Alliance ships. They had declared that once the alien tech was safely in the hands of Batarian scientists, then, and only then, the Citadel council (the bunch of slow moving, unchanging cowards that they were) were to be informed and allowed to conduct proper first contact procedures.<p>

Jarr's problem? The whole mission. He'd only been given nine ships -and even then one of them, the _Kharto_, was a bulky, armoured freighter carrying the scavenging team. So, in total, he had _eight_ warships to conduct what was essentially grave robbery. It was madness. A pointless exercise that served only to highlight the utter insanity of the nation Jarr reluctantly served. The entire mission counted on the aliens being incredibly stupid: failing to secure both the only known Relay leading to their space and the wrecks of their fallen ships. Were his ships -by some incredible stroke of luck- to manage to reach the wrecks, he'd be lucky if the aliens didn't find him and shoot him on sight for desecrating the graves of their fallen comrades. The mission stank of idiocy. The Hegemoney should have informed the Citadel immediately instead of sending him on this insane mission that would only provoke the aliens to attack Batarian ships if they caught him, possibly sparking a war (or an extermination? The Hegemoney was barely a match for the Alliance) in the progress, depending on the "glorious" Hegemonies reaction. He was under-equipped to carry out a mission that, in all honesty, should never have been commissoned in the first place.

"Commander, we're nearing the Relay's last confirmed location. Estimated time of arrival, fifteen minutes."

Jarr merely nodded at the pilots announcment from his position deep within his cruisers darkened Combat information centre, his mind still partly lost within his own thoughts. Surrounding him worked dozens of black-clad Batarian crewmen, each one bathed in glow of their holographic consoles as they tended to the cruisers many needs. The _Harta_ was ready for combat at a moments notice. Her core had been discharged only hours ago and coupled with her new static build-up dispersion system, could last twice as long in combat before requiring another core discharge. Coupled with a recent overhaul to her kinetic barrier system, the_ Harta _was ready to face anything the known galaxy could throw at it. But could she face what the unknown could throw at it?

Directed energy weapons... The energy weapons the alien ship had used during it's brief engagement with the pirate fleet were short-timed, pin-point accurate, plasma stream emissions so concentrated they'd pierced the kinetic barriers and twenty-five centimetres of GARDIAN-rated ablative armour on a pirate frigate with minimum effort. Whilst plasma weapons weren't unheard of -the Geth, after the attack on the Citadel, were now well known users of plasma weaponry- Jarr had never came across a plasma weapon as potent as the one the alien ship had utilised. And the best part? Those weapons were what appeared to be nothing more than mere secondary weapons, mounted on a frigate who's primary weapons were a pair of rapid fire mass accelerator turrets which themselves were nothing to scoff at. If they could mount such potent anti-ship weaponry on a frigate... what did they put on their cruisers? Or their dreadnoughts? Assuming they even followed the same classification system, of course.

Jarr gripped the railing surrounding the CIC's holo-map. Maybe he should turn back and blame his hesitance on engine failure or reactor problems or... something along those lines. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced this mission was a one way ticket to the afterlife. He paused mid-thought. He couldn't turn back. There were die-hard Hegemoney supporters in his squadron: one of whom happened to be in command of one of his cruisers. Turning back without completing the mission would earn himself a point-blank mass accelerator shot to the reactor: fitting punishment for his and his crews "cowardness". Jarr grimaced. It really was a no-win situation, with all obvious options leading straight to a messy death.

"Once we're in range, immediately beginning scanning the area around the Relay for contacts." Jarr growled towards his crew. "Report anything, and I mean _anything_, no matter how small."

The Batarian Commander nodded to himself in satisfaction as his crew busied themselves readying their equipment in compliance with their new orders. If he had to do this cursed mission, the least he could do was try to cut down on unnecessary risks. Walking blindly into an ambush was one of those unnecessary risks, one that he'd rather avoid. But that was making the assumption the aliens would want to ambush him in the first place (if he remembered correctly, the position around the Relay was perfect for an ambush: the entire area a dust cloud large enough to hide an entire fleet). In all honesty, whilst he had a limited idea of their capabilities thanks to the information provided by the pirate lord, no one in the Hegemoney had the slightest idea what the aliens themselves were like. If the aliens had secured the Relay, (which, if they were competent, was more than likely considering it had been almost twelve days since the Pirate Lord "stumbled" across them) would Jarr and the soldiers and ships under his command be dealing with a war fleet with shoot-to-kill orders or a diplomatic envoy seeking peaceful relations? Jarr grunted and shook his head. Just one more reason to scrap this pointless mission. Whilst he hated to admit it, first contacts were best left to the Citadel council, whom had far more experience in dealing with new, unknown races and the quirks and challenges each brought with it. The Hegemoney should've sent an envoy, not a squadron of warships aiming to strip the carcasses of alien vessels clean of their technology and weapons. As always, the Batarian government had been blinded by their greed, ignoring the bigger picture.

"Commander." One of his subordinates called, finally causing Jarr to look away from the swirling holographic map before him. "We're approaching the Relay. Beginning scans of local area. Putting the images on screen..." The officer in-question trailed off as he typed in the last command. "...now."

The holo-map at the centre of the oval shaped CIC shattered, morphed and scattered, before reforming into a zoomed-in representation of the local area with nearby planets, identified vessels and other objects of intrest marked by colourful three-dimensional icons. It was one of the newer models of holographic tactical displays, a little extra addition the engineers had installed during his cruisers last refit.

Jarr physically recoiled from the railing as his eyes caught sight of one of the most terrifying situations he'd imagined happening during this mission. Right there, holding position in neat circular formations arranged infront of the dust cloud containing the mythical Relay, were _ninety_ unidentified contacts. No, that was a lie. They were identifiable alright. He remembered the white winged insignia the pirate lord had mentioned: the same insignia emblazoned on the hull of every vessel before him.

It was an alien fleet. Scores of bulky frigates and heavier warships ranging in shape and size from just under five hundred metres to around seven hundred: each one a hulking armoured monster with a light blue hull plastered with gun turrets and missile ports. Multiple squadrons of delta-winged, pronged fighter craft swarmed around the capital ships, their hulking frames far larger and sturdier than any other fighter design Jarr had ever seen. Two massive "carriers" (a human term for a warship dedicated to carrying fighters) lurked towards the fleets rear, their front and left sides dominated by glowing hangar none of them compared to the three vessels the fleet was formed up around. Two 1 kilometre long prong-hulled almost sword-shaped dreadnoughts floated serenly alongside the carriers, their hulls pock-marked with large doublebarrelled gun turrets. The power readings coming from the two dreadnoughts were incredible, each one had to have been powered by multiple reactors judging from the readings his sensors were picking up. However, even they were dwarfed by the 1.6 kilometre monster sitting squarely in the centre of the alien fleet, completely eclipsing everything around it. Externally it resembled a longer, slightly wider version of the two 1km dreadnoughts, though Jarr noted the sloped armoured superstructure that had been built along the ships back. Dozens of large triple gunned turrets dotted it's surface, supplemented by numerous smaller secondary turrets and missile ports built into the hull. Too give a sense of the thermal readings the obvious alien flagship was emitting, the large, flat, oddly shaped dorsal and ventral turrets were each alone emitting the same thermal signatures as a modern heavy cruiser.

There was no way his paltry force of nine ships could stand up to an armada of this size. That single fleet almost had as many dreadnoughts as the entire Batarian navy. A glance at another readout revealed just how deeply screwed he and his men were. His ship...no... his entire squadron was being painted by radar, lidar and multiple sensor systems his ships VI couldn't even identify, from multiple vessels no less. No, retreat was the only option.

"Turn us around!" Jarr could feel the fear building in the pit of his stomach, his eye's glued to the holo-map, awaiting the moment one of the alien vessels attacked or gave chase.

"Turn us around now, you fools! Do it quick!" Jarr's mind worked furiously even as the view outside his cruisers tiny view-slits swirled as the pilot all to gleefully complied with his orders, the inertial dampeners kicking in to compensate.

"Someone send a message to command!" Screw the Hegemonies orders. Their secrecy died with the discovery of that alien fleet. What did they wish him to do now? attack them? "Tell them to inform the Citadel Council immediately, no matter what!"

"What will I tell them, sir?" The communications officer replied, fingers twitching over his consoles controls.

"Tell them, tell them it's worse than their wildest predictions."

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><p><em>Also, I know it's pretty short. As I said, complete lack of time. It was either get a chapter out now and then editredo it if people pointed out mistakes/complained or leave you guys waiting another month or so._

_Anyway, as usual, hope you enjoyed the chapter etc etc, remember to review/alert/PM if you liked it. :)_

_Also, for you Homeworld fans: http:/www_youtube_com/watch?v=xWr0Ei1ePN0_ **(Replace the _ with a .)**


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry for the slight delay, I ran into a roadblock writing the end of the chapter and even now I'm not quite satisfied with it but I feel its good enough and I don't want to keep peoples waiting._

_Also... Holy Jesus! 18 reviews! And it wasn't even a war chapter. :D  
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_EDIT: Come on, only three people have an opinion on this chapter? I thought this one was quite good...  
><em>

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><p>The bridge of his ship was almost silent, the crew tending wordlessly to their workstations just as he liked it. The only sound came from the humming of the consoles and computers themselves, only now and again punctuated by the occasional "bleep" as something important was flagged for the attention of one of his subordinates. It was so quiet. Peaceful. Bliss. A chance for him to recall bygone events of a distant past or to plan ahead for challenges yet to come. Even as his eyes swept the bridge for the smallest of punishable errors, his mind was elsewhere, locked deep in thought as he pondered the battle to come. He smirked to himself as he thought of it. It was no secret amongst his crew that he took pleasure in dealing with those that dared stand against his nation; traitors who'd once stood by his side; bastard sons of a forgotten desert world; scum not fit to lick his boots... it mattered not who: he treated them all with equal contempt and dispassion. He was not to be mistaken for somekind of bloodthirsty barbarian however. He did not charge mindlessly into the fray drunk on bloodlust. He was a professional: a man who'd fought for so long it had become almost second nature. He out-thought and out-maneuvered his foes in order to deal with them as efficiently as possible with minimum risk to himself. No mercy was given for his foes deserved nothing but death for the damage they'd inflicted on the once great nation he served.<p>

Regardless, the battle fought today would not be a glorious tale of conflict between two great war fleets. Nor would it be the enjoyable destruction of a violent anarchist pirate gang. Infact, it would scarcely be called a battle at all. It would be more akin to a one-sided slaughter: the cleansing of a hive of corruption, hostility and contempt. The Galactic Council would die here. Today. Each and every one of them. The bunch of cowardly traitors they were.

Even thinking of the council caused him to clench his fists in anger. Designed as a place for representatives to gather and discuss galactic matters, the council had mutated over time into something rotten. It was amazing how a great political force who's combined military power could have once humbled even the might of the Empire at its peak, had turned into a joke ruled by senial representatives drunk on the pretense of power. Council Representatives held no true say in galactic politics anymore and were infact generally more concerned with insulting their political opponents than actually discussing important galactic concerns. Immoral events -such as the now infamous publicly recorded ridicule of the Hiigaran councillors after they'd announced first contact with a new race- were rather common within the council chambers. It was little wonder the councils own member states regularly ignored its crazed and often one-sided rulings.

Despite its glaringly obvious flaws, the council was still _the_ hub of inter-galactic relations: even with the unmasked bias present against several of its more prominant members or the background deal brockering and side taking that was common place amongst those with less power. Even with its many problems, the lose of the council would still deal a decapitating strike to galactic diplomacy, straining already tense relationships to snapping point and sparking off already voliatile flashpoints... exactly as planned.

"Captain, sir, we will exit hyperspace in just under two minutes."

And so it begun. His actions today would send shockwaves across the face of the galaxy, changing it forever.

"Charge ion cannons, prep all mass drivers and activate the defensive subsystems and shields, I want this ship ready for immediate combat upon arrival. No excuses."

A series of "Yes Captains" rang out across the bridge as his subordinates immediately carried out his commands. He himself had committed the details of the mission to memory. His cruiser -a _Fiir-Saar type-3_ cruiser (dubbed _Qwaar-jet III_-class by every other nation barring the Vaygr) named _Black Empress_- would arrive two hundred kilometres away from the councils "secret" meeting point aboard a neutral asteroid station hidden deep within the centre of the Great Wastelands alongside five other allied ships: four other _Fiir-Saar _cruisers and a Vaygr designed _Model-38 _battlecruiser named _Vanguard_ that had been acquired by the Guard during their brief alliance with the Vaygr during Vaygr War and had been put into service as a squadron leader. Once they'd transitioned from hyperspace to normal space they'd proceed to wipeout any resistance around the station before destroying it and the council within.

The entire mission was expected to take them no longer than thirty minutes standard time at the most. They'd be back home in time for supper.

"Hyperspace coordinates locked in, dropping into normal space... now."

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the brief tingling sensation of hyperspace transition as it washed over him, his ship slipping back into real space from the depths of a glowing hyperspace portal. They'd arrived. The cold featureless realm of hyperspace was gone, replaced by the browny darkness of a dense asteroid field inhabited by thousands of dead rocks... and one that wasn't quite dead yet...

The asteroid station loomed ahead of them: its craggy brown form framed by the orange glow of small star far on the horizon. Twinkling white lights and artificial constructions lined its surface; comm antennas; hangars; mess halls, the tell tale signs of habitation were visible all over it. Dozens of defenseless luxury yachts and transports of many a different makes and models floated quietly alongside the station, lined up neatly as they waited on the eventual return of their single occupants, their crews oblivious to the impending storm.

He snorted. This was going to be too easy.

Ancient defensive turrets groaned to life all over the sleepy station as perimeter sensors finally detected the six warships as they began their gradual acceleration towards the diplomatic meeting point. The guns -obsolete single barrelled mass driver weapons with elderly targetting systems installed eons ago as a precaution against the off-chance that anyone had the gall to attack the council- never had a chance. The Guard vessels fired first: each round slamming into and ripping apart turret after turret: each armour piercing slug guided by modern targetting systems whos simple artificial intelligences simply could not miss at such close range. A handful of missiles streaked defiantly away from a dozen hidden missile pods, closing the meagre distance between the station and its attackers in a heartbeat only to be shot down mid-flight by point defence lasers. Those that got through detonated uselessly against reverse engineered shields. The _Black Empress _herself had the pleasure of destroying the unexpected nuisance, splitting open pod after pod with searing white-hot beams of energy from her bow ion cannon turrets, riddling the station with secondary explosions.

A squadron of modernised _Triikor_ interceptors emerged from the underside hangar of the _Vanguard_: their four rear fin's unfolding as they cleared the battlecruisers narrow hangar entrance. In response, two dozen automated combat drones erupted from hidden storage bays located all across the surface of the now weaponless asteroid station. The drones didn't stand a chance. Half their number was taken out instantly by disposable fire-and-forget anti-fighter missiles, the rest were simply out-flown by the Imperial Guard pilots as they dodged and weaved amongst the far slower and dumber AI controlled drones. The drones were worthless: everytime one managed to fire a badly aimed burst at one of the_ Triikors,_ the Imperial fighters would simply roll out of the drones path, flip over and tear the drones lightly armoured belly open with a burst from their own off-centred guns. One after the other the drones disappeared in orangey tinged explosions or spiralled helplessly out of control as they were hit relentlessly by accurate bursts of cannon fire from the elite _Triikor_ pilots.

"As I expected, no challenge at all." He watched as the holographic image of the last attack drone spun wildly into the side of a smaller asteroid and winked out. The defences were gone, now to dispose of the witnesses.

"Target the transports, burn them all. Don't let any escape."

The _Black Empress_, the _Vanguard_ and two other cruisers rounded on the scattering transports like a pack of wolves cornering their desperate prey. As one, the Guard ships silenced the only witnesses too their ruthless attack. Ion cannon beams lanced through the thin skinned vessels: punching into exposed bridges, boiling away metal, electronics and command crew members alike. One ship -A Frerrn designed yacht- was sliced in two by one of the _Empress's _fellow cruisers, splitting apart in a storm of molten debris, it's engine block going on to slam into the prow of another fleeing transport, exploding and consuming them both in a vaporising flash of light. A barrage of kinetic rounds and missiles followed the beams, perforating the remaining ships bridges and engineering sections leaving them crewless and powerless, leaving glowing, drifting wrecks where once proud vessels stood. One ship -this one belonging to the traitors- was reduced to molten slag by a blood red bolt of plasma from the _Vanguard's_ heavy fixed-forward plasma cannon array as it ran for the supposed safety of the surrounding asteroid field. Plasma lances flashed along the hulls of the Guard vessels, piercing the hulls of less damaged vessels or vaporising lifepods full of survivors. The Guard carried out the slaughter without thought. It was required. Not a single one of those ships could've been allowed to survive. Mercy was not an option, and many of those slain deserved their fate anyhow.

He couldn't help but grin as the mission moved into its final phase. His eyes eagerly following the computer rendering of the _Vanguards_ deadly cargo. A twenty metre long, armour plated, nuclear fusion missile laden down with an oversized warhead cruised almost lazily away from the battlecruisers hangar at full burn, its targetting sensors locked on to a weak section of the asteroid base's cratered surface. Desperate point defence burst gun fire struck the oversized missile, each round that hit merely bouncing off the armoured casing and doing little to stop the missile as it inexorably closed with the station before activating six secondary thrusters and crashing head first through one of the cooling vents in the stations side, burying itself six metres inside a generator room -to the surprise of the three engineers within- before detonating a heart beat later.

The explosion left him stunned and in awe of its power. Despite being almost one hundred and fifty kilometres away from the station, thermal and radiation warning alarms still sounded all over his ships bridge. The white light filled every one of his ships viewports, momentarily blinding those dumb enough to be staring directly at the source. As the flash faded, he gawked one more. The base was gone, nothing but hundreds of tiny globs of barely formed molten rock and metal left in its place. The council... wiped from the face of the galaxy, reduced to nothing by the blast. A small mercy at least. Their deaths would have been painless, the councillors flash-fried and atomically annihilated before their brains could even comprehend what was going on. It was more than many of them deserved.

"The council burns at last. This has been a long time coming. Savor the feeling, for it is the glorious feeling of fulfillment. We have had our revenge."

Around the bridge, a dozen other officers nodded in agreement with his words. Some were even smirking as they basked in the glow of destruction. This was an event long in the making, it was only right that his men could enjoy it. He drew the line when a few of his bolder officers had the cheek to begin whispering amongst themselves.

"Our task is done." He snapped, silencing the murmurs and bringing his crew back into line. "There is no worth in waiting around. Plot a course for home immediately."

A moment later, six black hulled warships -each bearing the dreaded mark of the Guard- tore open hyperspace portals and fled, their ominous, predatory forms consumed by the glowing vortices they'd summoned, the portals collapsing out of existence behind them upon their departure, leaving only the still smouldering remains of a fresh graveyard and the whispering souls of the recently dead in their wake

* * *

><p>Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid was stressed. Infact, stressed might have been an understatement. His patience had already been pushed to the limit over the past few hours dealing with nosey diplomats and incomprehensible scientists whilst simultaneously preventing his hundred strong fleet from firing on or otherwise provoking a violent reaction from the alien force currently staring the Hiigaran fleet down across the gulf of space: an alien fleet that was growing in number by the hour as well. He'd barely been keeping a lid on the anxiety and worry prevalent amongst his men whilst trying to maintain his calm demeanor at the same time. He'd already snapped at one of his Lieutenaunts who'd asked permission to conduct a <em>sensor sweep <em>of all things! And then, as if to compound his dilemma, he had a looming report to write up and send back to Fleet Command as well.

News as worrying as this -if Admiral Elso was correct- was the last thing he needed to hear at the moment.

"Gone?" He repeated for the third time, staring in disbelief at the video feed on the console before him. "Are you completely certain? There can be no doubt to a claim like this."

"Certain, we have ships searching the remains as I speak." Admiral Rahn Elso, commander of the 14th rear guard tactical fleet and the man currently in charge of security on the "home" side of the jumpgate, drained the tiny glass of whiskey he held in one go. Outside of a combat situation, Hussaiid had never seen Admiral Elso without a drink in his hand.

"The councils dead. The station they were using as an assembly is gone. Wiped off the face of reality. There are not even bodies left to recover."

"Sajuuk grant mercy." Hussaiid shook his head at the holo-screen, both in disbelief and in an attempt to try and bury his knowledge on the fact Elso was currently being investigated by naval intelligence over his alleged acceptance of bribes in exchange for ships under his command. If proven guilty (which was the likely outcome considering the mass of evidence against him) Elso would be branded a traitor and ejected from the Military and his chosen Kiith. Even if found innocent, the Admirals reputation would still be ruined.

"Do we have any idea's on who committed this outrage?"

"No. The attackers were thorough. They burned everything. No survivors. And all the data recorded during the attack has been corrupted by an electronic virus."

Hussaiid stared, unable to speak. Without the council or even anyone to blame for their violent demise, the remaining nations would turn on each other. Hostile confrontations were almost a certainty. Admiral Elso merely shrugged his shoulders and continued.

"It's getting mad back here, Admiral. The Frerrn are massing ships on the border. Fleet Intelligence estimates that they're going to make a move on the independent world of Kartun within a couple of days. We've also got reports of increased skirmishing between Imperial and Vaygr loyalist forces on the Imperial-Vaygr border. They're already taking advantage."

Hussaiid pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to cull the migraine that had suddenly set upon him. This couldn't be happening. It had only been thirty years since the last major war and the scars from that one -both physical and mental- had yet to fully heal. Sajuuk forbid, not another war already.

"And what of our response?" He replied. "Surely the Daiamid is reacting to these events?"

"The 2nd fleet along with the dreadnought has been rebased to the _Eye of Aarran _and a dozen reserve and rear guard fleets have been brought up to full mobilisation and placed on combat alert in case anyone decides to fuck with us."

Hussaiid frowned. As well as his drinking habit, Admiral Elso was also well known for his liberal use of bad language. Elso casually tossed in curses whilst talking and had a habit of launching into foul mouthed rants went angered, much like one of the faithless, theiving street-rats that could be found infesting the back alleys of the numerous "free-stations" dotted all over the galaxy, making him sometimes a rather unpleasant man to listen to.

"The 14th is one of the fleets placed on alert just in case the Vaygr decide to probe our borders." Elso casually retrieved a small ornate flask from off-screen and proceeded to fill his glass with more whiskey, ignoring Hussaiids bemused look.

"Needless to say, we won't be able to support you if things go to crap on your end. Or at least not immediately anyway."

Facing down an alien fleet -even with more than a two-to-one advantage- with no support or reinforcements was not Hussaiids idea of a good time. He shook his head as the migraine resurfaced and resumed his discomfort.

"What of the Republicans?" He muttered, gently clutching the side of his head as the pain began to fade. "They promised us ships and diplomatic specialists to assist with first contact."

"They were recalled to the Republican Capital." Elso answered immediately. "The Republicans are afraid the Vaygr will launch an assualt on their borders and are stalling any support they promised in case they're attacked. They are a bunch of useless fucking cowards."

"I would hardly go that far, Admiral." Hussaiid met his fellow Admirals eyes. Eyes that were like his: emotionless and detached. Eyes that were far too used to the grim sights of war."The Republicans are good allies, and their navy is competent and more than capable of holding its own. Their response to the threat of Vaygr attack is justified. We'll just have to make do without that reinforcing taskforce."

"Anyhow." Hussaiid quickly switched the subject to a matter that had been irritating him since they'd arrived. "The remains of the Alien warship on our side of the jumpgate, the wreck has been recovered, correct?"

Elso nodded before downing the contents of his tiny whiskey glass once more.

"A bunch of Kiith S'jets tugs and a couple of escorts showed up and dragged whats left of that _thing_ off towards a research facility in the Wastes." Elso pointed off-screen, as if to emphasis the point.

"I'm not surprised. Three fusion mines went off inside that thing and most of the internal skeletons intact, though everything else is gone. Whatever alloy that things creepy frame is made from, its damned resilient. No wonder S'jets intrested."

"Admiral, sir." One of the Lieutenaunts in charge of his ships sensor systems -the same one he'd yelled at early to be precise- called for his attention from the other side of his ships vast command bridge.

"Another four alien vessels have just entered sensor range. Total alien compliment now stands at fourty-eight confirmed warships, fifteen unarmed vessels and two unknowns."

"Just when I thought I'd have time to chat..." Hussaiid glanced at the holographic displays of the new alien ships: two frigates and two destroyer analogs, the first alien reinforcements for almost twenty minutes.

"I'm sorry Admiral, but we'll need to cut this short. More pressing matters need to be dealt with."

"I understand." Elso replied, downing his third shot of whiskey. "I wish you the best of luck. I just hope this doesn't all blow up in our face..."

"The same Admiral, the same."

Hussaiid immediately switched his attention away from the dying holo-screen over to the massive command model tactical display that dominated the rear of the bridge showing clear as day the alien armada amassing before them. The Admirals tired eyes danced across the information presented before him, processing the alien formation as he tried to guess at what they were planning.

The Alien fleet was spread out over a width of around 60,000 kilometres and was clustered into several loose groups, each group comprised of ships that shared similiar design patterns. He pondered that for a moment. Different nations? Perhaps they weren't facing a single unified nation after all. The ships arranged before him bore absolutely no resemblence to the vessels identified during the attack. They were also far too organised, far too competent and took good care of their ships. Regardless, he'd need to mention his suspicion to the resident diplomatic officer present for first contact negotiations and see what he made of it.

"Admiral, looks like our friends are back, sir." The other sensors officer -a short blonde woman- called over the background noise. "The same nine ship strong squadron we first encountered. Three destroyer analogs and six frigates."

As if to emphasize her point, she pinged the contacts, causing the newly arrived formation to bleep and flash. They were -as she'd promised- the very same ships the 6th fleet had first encountered almost seven hours ago. The ships that made up the formation were unique bulky, rounded grey designs completely different from any other ship present in the alien fleet, possibly adding another new nation to the mix if his suspicions were correct.

Oddly, ship-to-ship chatter (chatter that the 6th fleet had...obtained access to, all in the name of research of course) had increased between the already present alien ships as the new group slunk up behind them and passed them (He marvelled at the speeds they could achieve, though their accelerations were oddly sluggish) and took position in an empty sector of space far removed from the others. Some of the chatter sounded angry. Offended even. Regardless of the meaning, every word uttered by the aliens was being recorded and analysed by the S'jetii science vessel attached to his fleet -the _Biiel-Taal_- as they worked (slowly) on a basic translation for the alien language.

"_Biiel-Taal_, are you getting this?"

"Every word, Admiral." The _Biiel-Taal's _politely spoken Captain replied. The _Biiel-Taal _was an ugly beast compared to the 6th fleets sleek warships. A large reconverted frieghter fitted with a vast superstructure and overhauled engines to deal with its increased bulk, the _Biiel-Taal _was the largest science vessel in service with the Navy though it's crew was solely from Kiith S'jet. The _Biiel-Taal _had been pulled away from its studying of some Progenitor relic out in the Wastes in order to act as the 6th fleets science arm, analysing any alien technology they could get their hands on as well as helping with other important tasks such as translation. Hussaiid had quickly come to dislike the Head Scientist aboard that ship, who'd made it abundantly clear he'd rather be somewhere else.

"The Science team has informed me that a basic translation should be ready for use soon, though they couldn't or wouldn't give an exact e.t.a."

"Typical Scientists." The Admiral shook his head. "Tell them to get a move on, Captain. they're already thirty minutes late. We need that translation protocol as soon as possible."

"Yes, of course Admiral." The Captain replied before cutting the feed.

Hussaiid was content with the Captains response. Hopefully the Captain could speed up those damned Scientists. He couldn't stress how important the translation protocol was to success of the entire mission. The 6th fleet couldn't even commence proper first contact until they had it.

But until the researchers completed it, he would just have to bide his time.

"Status report!"

The _Koshiir-Ra _was his illustrious flagship. Sixth vessel of her class and named after the old Hiigaran God of protection, the _Longsword_-class battleship was a veteran of a dozen bloody battles and skirmishes. The behemoth vessel had long proven its worth to both the Navy and her crew. She was more than capable of going toe-to-toe with entire cruiser squadrons without support and carried enough firepower to gut a battlecruiser with a dozen seconds worth of sustained fire. With her advanced command and control suites, she was more than capable of leading the combined elements of the 6th fleet.

But it didn't hurt to make sure she was ready for combat.

"Weaponry reports status green across the board. All weapons loaded and ready."

"Point Defences online. Minor energy fluctuations in defensive shields. Tracking problem to generator two. Solving."

"Engineering reports engines green, reactors green."

Hussaiid nodded his head in satisfaction as the command crew continued to drawl out status updates. The _Koshiir-Ra _was ready for battle if necessary. He just hoped it didn't come to that. The entire mission was overshadowed with the threat of war. Failure to end first contact peacefully would mean another war, a war that could easily prove fatal for Hiigara in the current state the galaxy was in after the assasination of the council. Any weakness, no matter how small, would be seized upon by Hiigara's enemies and used against them.

"Sir!" The female sensors officer called, completely shattering his chain of thought. "New contact just jumped in! This ones a big one, just under a kilometre. Marking as a heavy capital warship. It has multiple frigate escorts and strikecraft cover."

Hussaiid locked his eyes onto the new contact. It was a broad, pointed dagger shaped vessel with hard, sharp edges and two thick protrusions on either side towards the rear that reminded him of wings on an atmospheric craft. The heavy capital warship cruised into formation alongside the largest group of alien ships, all of which bore the same predatory, aggressive hull styling.

"So, they do have heavy Caps." He muttered as he continued to inspect the alien formation. The heavy Capital had nestled itself at the centre of the largest group of alien ships, whom had formed formation around it without fuss. It had to be some sort of command ship or taskforce leader for that particular group. Also, like every other alien vessel present, its thermal signature was far too weak, far smaller than the thermal signature a vessel that size should've had.

"Admiral, receiving a high priority transmission from the battlecruiser _Guardian_. Patching it through." The _Koshiir-Ra's _communications officer -a dark headed man many years Hussaiids junior with a habit of staring at the blonde sensors officer- called out before a crackle of static announced the opening of a new communications link.

"Admiral." The voice of the Captain on the other end of the comm link sounded stressed and confused. The _Guardian's_ Captain was a good man: level headed and smart. The perfect man to lead a group of cruisers. Hearing him annoyed like that caused Hussaiids heart to sink. Something had gone wrong.

"We've just been hit by...uh... some- somekind of electronic warfare attack. Our own ECM systems weren't spun up and prepared for that kind of attack. They flash banged us and flooded our systems with data. It knocked our sensors and targetting systems right out. Thankfully, scans are showing they didn't break into any data, but we're totally blind until we can get the affected systems back online."

The silence that overcame the bridge in response to the announcement was startling. Surprise mixed with disbelief and anger. The aliens had just committed what was, in many of their eyes, a hostile attack.

"Damn it." Hussaiid stared at the tactical display, eyes set on the culprit. A dozen ECM suites across the fleet had tracked the electronic attack to its source: the heavy alien capital at the centre of the largest group. It was a probe at the Hiigaran defences. A test to see how they'd react. The Aliens were goading him to see if he'd attack. And it was working. Hundreds of targetting icons lit up the alien fleet as group leaders marked targets for the vessels under their command. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands of guns, missiles, ion cannons, ready to gut the alien force that was half their size and no where near their tonnage, all at his word.

That word would never come.

"They won't get what they want. I won't let it happen."

With a few swift taps of holographic icons, the fleet was given the automated message to stand down. Targetting solutions were cancelled and combat trajectories deleted. The Hiigarans would not fight today.

"Tell the _Biiel-Taal _that I need that translation software now!" Hussaiid didn't care that he was shouting. He had literally just managed to prevent the situation from escalating into a shooting war. The aliens had just committed an electronic assualt on one of his vessels. By all rights, he should have opened fire for that. Some of his more senior officers were even starting to question his decision. He had to end this. Now.

"The _Biiel-Taal _uploaded the software literally just as you were saying that, Admiral."

"Okay then. I'm going to initiate first contact, with or without the Ambassador present. I can't let this become another war. I just can't."

His palms began to sweat. This was it. This was where it was all decided. The translation software would be pretty basic to begin with, but as long as he got across who he was, who he was representing and that they came in peace, it didn't matter. The Ambassador could takeover from there.

"Broadcast on all frequencies. This is it."

The communications officer tapped in the commands as an awed silence came over the bridge. It was so quiet infact, he could hear the faint hum of the ships massive engines many metres towards the stern. All eyes were upon him as he cleared his throat, wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and spoke clearly into the bridges audio receptors.

"This is Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid, commanding officer of the 6th fleet of the Hiigaran Republic Navy. We come in peace and mean you no harm."

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

"Please respond."

* * *

><p><strong>To: Admiral Hiirahn Soban, commanding officer of the 3rd fleet<strong>

**From: Director Liir Hraal, lead engineer on project "**_**Firelance**_**"**

Admiral, I don't have much time at the moment, so I'll keep this brief. The project -as you know- has fallen far behind schedule and has required vastly more resources than initially predicted when we began. This mainly falls down to the heat management problem I mentioned during my last report. As I reported, the weapon will gut a fully shielded Vaygr _model-38 _battlecruiser with a single shot.

However, every time we fire the weapon, the heat build up from firing melts all the sensitive equipment: generators, power couplings, emitter arrays, the whole works and the repair work takes weeks and requires tonnes of materials. Even the addition of three external heat dissipation vents (which are massive structural weaknesses by the way) has done little to solve the problem.

I need you to get me permission to inspect the Progenitor designed Arrays on either the _Gatekeeper of Sajuuk_, or (even better) _Sajuuk_ itself, in order to see how the Progenitor engineers dealt with the heat build up problem. Without access to one of those ships and their weapons systems I doubt the Project will be finished by the end of this _year_ let alone the end of this Quarter as you asked. The completion of this project hinges on you, Admiral.

Good luck, Admiral. May Sajuuk guide your path.

**End of Message**

* * *

><p><em>So, thats another chapter out there, in the wild that is . Remember to review or even just PM me if you liked it, or you have some criticismquestions._

_Anyway, the next bit for me is too touch up/rewrite sections of chapter 1,5 and 6. Chapter 1 because it contradicts the rest of the fic in some places and chapters 5 and 6 because they were rushed and it shows in some places. If you've spotted anything wrong with those chapters, don't be afraid to message me and tell me. After that, I'll start writting chapter 8.  
><em>

__I wonder if anyone has noticed how much stuff (I hope) is going on in the background...__


	8. Chapter 8

_Earlier than usual..._

* * *

><p>"They're Humans! How can they be Humans, Admiral?"<p>

Admiral James A Johnson honestly couldn't explain. It was impossible for two species to evolve to become physically identical. Thats what he'd always been told. The odds were astronomical. And yet, here were these "Hiigarans", a completely alien race that just happened to look exactly like a human. He was having a hard time believing it, even as he reviewed the Hiigaran first contact package once more. He gawked at the newly translated images of the "average Hiigaran male and female": carbon copies of their Human counterparts. And yet, their language was foreign. As was their culture and society. Infact, everything else about them was as alien as the Asari or the Turians had once been. Whatever biological anomally had caused this would give the scientists something to think about for a long time... but right now, he had more pressing matters.

The Hiigarans had came with a massive fleet: around one hundred warships (and they were warships) give or take a few. There were more than enough ships here to pose a serious threat to both Alliance and Council space. It was the single reason why the 7th fleet -that he commanded- had been ordered in to the sector to back up the Turian fleet all ready present. Combined with the other Council ships present, they had just enough ships to match the Hiigaran numbers, but they were seriously out-gunned. The Hiigarans had brought five dreadnoughts with them, each one lit up like a small sun on his ships thermal scope. Five. That was only three less than was in the entire Alliance Navy. That was nothing compared to their flag vessel: a gargantuan, hulking beast (1.6 kilometres long according to the scans), that lurked at the centre of their formation, bristling with what appeared to be gun turrets, missile ports and communications antennae, its hull swarming with patrols of pronged, delta shaped fighters that exited and entered the two cavernous hangars on its flanks. It was like someone had taken one of their smaller dreadnoughts, put it on steroids and added dozens of guns to it. In comparison, the assembled council races before them had just the Turian dreadnought _Firaxi_ and his carrier the _SSV George Washington_: a paltry force considering the Hiigarans had six times the number of dreadnoughts and at least three (smaller) carriers themselves not to mention all of their dreadnoughts possesed hangars on their flanks, towards the engines at the rear. He had to be wary. Whilst the Hiigarans claimed to have peaceful intentions, the fact they'd showed up with a fleet this size made their claim quite doubtful. There was nothing stopping them wiping out the council forces before them and assualting the Terminus Systems or Council space.

Thinking about that would have to wait though. First, he had to deal with a rather annoying Batarian Commander.

"Perhaps this is just another Human plan to undermine our great nati-"

"Commander Orr'lathe, please be quiet and think about this rationally." It wasn't him that silenced the Batarian. Rather, it was Matriarch Ludina aboard one of the two asari cruisers present, that had cut the Batarian off. Ludina had placed herself in command of the rag-tag multi-racial force before himself and Admiral Vakarias -the Turian Admiral aboard the _Firaxi_- had taken over command of the Alliance and Turian forces respectively. Since then, Ludina had been commanding the small number of Asari and Salarian vessels left over and -due to her far superior knowledge of the arts of diplomacy- was the only beinging currently in communication with the Hiigaran fleet: though progress was slow due to the Hiigarans buggy and sometimes restrictive translation software.

"You are claiming the Systems Alliance somehow created a race with completely alien technology and ships that don't have a trace of element zero aboard them in order to bring down your race? Even you should be able to see the insanity in such a accusation."

"Then explain why they look exactly the same!"

James had to admit, it was quite amusing hearing the Batarian Commander splutter and talk nonesense. The commander was Batarian Navy, and members of the Batarian government and armed forces had quite a habit of blaming the Alliance and humanity in general for most its problems. Ludina, however, didn't appear to find it so amusing.

"I lack the scientific knowledge to explain, but I assure you that it is most likely an odd coincidence at the most." The asari Matriarch paused for a moment to mutter something to a subordinate in the background before she continued. "Now Commander, unless you have proof for your accusations, please keep this channel clear. Admiral Johnson and Admiral Vakarias would be all to happy to see the back of you, understand?"

"Damn you Asari." The Batarian Commander sounded positively furious as he struggled to keep his tone level. James enjoyed ever second of it. "You're little better than the damned Humans."

And with that parting insult, the Batarian killed the link to the channel, much to James' relief. He marvelled at how the Matriarch managed to deal with that annoying fool so calmly. Had he had the chance to speak to the Batarian, he'd have probably ended up shouting insults right back at the four-eyed commander. To be fair though, if the Batarian Commander hadn't found -and then run away from- the Hiigaran fleet in the first place (the Batarians were being tracked by both Alliance and Council ships at the time: Batarian Naval vessels were rare outside their own space so the appearance of a small taskforce had raised suspicions) it would have taken far longer for the Alliance or the Council to find and deal with the new arrivals. So he had to at least thank Commander Orr'lathe for that.

Now that the annoying Batarian appeared to have been quelled, it was time to turn his full attention back to analysing the armada -and potential threat- hanging in space 30,000 kilometres away from his carrier and fleet. Were they truly peaceful? Or was this all a show to hide their true intentions? They were human, or at least human looking, but their mindset could easily be totally alien. For all he knew, he could be looking at somekind of conquest fleet or slaving force that put the Batarian slavers to shame... and that image didn't exactly fill him with optimism.

The Hiigaran fleet was also an oddity to him. There was not a single trace of element zero throughout the entire fleet. He glanced at the scans again. Nope, no element zero at all. He should probably check if everyone else had noticed this...

"Matriarch Ludina, Admiral Vakarias, is anyone else picking up not a single trace of element zero from the Hiigaran fleet?"

"We are, Admiral." The Matriarch replied with a moments pause. "No element zero, but we are picking massive thermal readings from each ship."

"That is impossible." Admiral Vakarias' smug voice dismissed the claim in an instance. "All faster than light travel utilizes element zero. It is the basis for all practical applications of space travel. No, it is basis for almost every piece of useful technology used within galactic society. Society as we know it would struggle to exist without it!"

The Turian paused to let that sink in before finishing with one final statement.

"Also, the thermal readings from those ships are impossible. Those ships should be burning their crews to a crisp."

"No element zero..." The Asari matriarch muttered. "Perhaps they have an alternative method of FTL?"

"If they even have FTL..." The Turian Admiral dismissed the Asari once more. "They have yet to display any kind of advanced technology we don't happen to have. Our scans show they don't even have kinetic barriers! They appear to be a new, primitive upstart race."

"At least you're scanning them this time and not trying to hack their systems." James couldn't help himself there. That was the moment the Turian Admiral had almost started another war through an act of sheer stupidity.

The jibe struck home, hitting the Turian where it hurt: his pride.

"We were well within our rights! A possibly hostile fleet shows up on our doorstep and sits there for hours doing or saying nothing? What did you expect? Or need I remind you that these new comers have already broken council law by activating that Relay? By rights, our response should have been far more severe."

James rolled his eyes from the safety of his carriers bridge. It was sheer luck they'd detected the silver plated Relay at all: it being located within a dense dust cloud and almost masked from their sensors by the sheer scale of the thermal outputs coming from the Hiigaran fleet. It's chance discovery shed some light on just where the Hiigarans had come from, but also gave the Turian Admiral another supposed reason to give the order for his fleet to open fire on them. The Turian Navy, as the supposed peacekeepers of the galaxy, took breaches of Council law really seriously, even though the Hierarchy had been weakened by the Geth attack on the Citadel two or so years ago.

"I'm sure these new comers would have heard all about the Councils laws regarding Relay activation..." James could not keep his disdain for the Turian from seeping into his voice any longer. "Or would the Hierarchy have prefered another first contact war? Another chance for them to show their power and might? I'd have thought you'd have learned from that mess you caused the last time."

"Admirals, please." The Asari Matriarch cut in, preventing the assured argument from starting. The First Contact War ,despite the taking place almost 28 years ago, was still a touchy subject for some Turians and Humans -Admiral Johnson included- and generated arguments between the two races. The Turians saw it as policing action against an ignorant race who'd violated council law. To the Humans it was their first contact with an alien race and an act of aggression for breaking a rule they did not know existed.

"This is neither the time or the place for petty arguments. Keep focused on the task at hand."

"I apologise." James could still feel the anger built up inside him as he muttered his apology. Some Turians were arrogant, to say the least. "Now, what are the Hiigarans planning on doing? What are their reasons for being here? It would be nice to know their intentions, to calm my nerves a bit."

"I have been speaking with both the Hiigaran Ambassador and the Admiral in command of their fleet." Ludina replied without a moments pause. "Whilst their translation software is still a bit sketchy, they appear to be here on a peace mission. The fleet is seemingly just a precaution as apparently some of their ships were attacked on their side of the Relay a few weeks ago."

"Attacked?" The Turian Admiral sounded -surprisingly- quite shocked at that statement. "By who?"

"I'm guessing a pirate or slaver gang." James cut in. "The Terminus Systems are crawling with them. Probably a larger group came across the Relay and decided to do some exploring."

"From what information the Hiigarans would relay to me, your guess appears to be closer to the truth than you'd think, Admiral." Ludina replied. "They most likely brought a fleet of such size out of fear of being attacked on arrival."

James thought about that. If what the Hiigarans had said was true, it explained why they'd felt the need to send warships through the Relay... but surely an entire fleet, especially one of such size, was an overreaction. Surely sending a few escorts would have been enough to ward off a pirate attack... But then again, the Hiigarans could have easily mistaken the pirate vessels as belonging to the navy of a major nation and had simply feared the worst possible outcome. He could just as easily be wrong, this could still be a ploy by the Hiigarans to lure them into a false sense of security, but he'd reserve his judgement for now. Still, the very fact the Hiigarans could spare a fleet of that size gave hint of a very well developed economy and industrial base, especially regarding the construction of the "super-dreadnought" leading the fleet. The industrial might that vessel represented was astounding. Only the Asari Republics, whom were arguably the most powerful nation in terms of economics, had managed to construct a vessel so large.

"Yes, that is all very intresting." Admiral Vakarias was not impressed. To him, the Hiigarans were a bunch of primitive new comers who'd overreacted to a simple pirate gang of all things and had committed a severe breach of council law by not just sending a scout through the Relay, but an entire war fleet. They, like the arrogant Humans, needed to be put in their place, but he'd hold his word for now. "What do these new comers plan on doing now? Do they even have a plan or are they so amazed and dumbstruck that they have decided to just sit there for eternity? Surely they are planning to go before the council as all new races have done before."

"Calm yourself Vakarias." Ludina replied serenely, though quietly she was bursting with excitement and anticipation. The Hiigarans were a fascinating race. Having had first hand experience talking with the Hiigaran ambassador via video link she could indeed confirm that their physical appearance was identical to that of the humans of which she'd became so accustomed. Whilst there was the possibility of internal biological differences externally there was no way to tell the difference. And yet everything else was so... alien. Their language was foreign and exotic (one that she would happily take the time to learn were the Hiigaran absorption into the galactic community to go smoothly) and their culture and history - even judging from what little had been given to her via their first contact passage- was varied and almost... mystical in how it was conveyed. Of particular note was the way they spoke of their Homeworld, Hiigara. They spoke of it with such care and warmth, they way they took such time in describing every little detail, it was as though it was a precious jewel that they held close to their hearts and one that they'd gladly die to defend.

"The Hiigarans are willing to send a representative to the council to discuss the relations between them and the Council." Ludina smiled slightly as she finally relayed what she'd been told scant minutes before by the robed Hiigaran. There was nothing quite like seeing a peaceful first contact between races. She'd only seen a handful herself. But to actually be the one responsible for its bloodless conclusion, it... it was hard to explain how she felt. The only thing that had her worried was how willing Admiral Vakarias was to attack them over a breach in council law. Ever since the First Contact War with the Humans, there was a hidden feeling amongst the Asari Republics over how "enthusiastic" the Turians were when dealing with breaches of council law. There was even hushed talk of confronting them over it. Still, that was a matter for another time and another place.

"They have requested more time to prepare." The Hiigaran Ambassador had been most adamant (to the extent of the capabilities of their translation software) that they be allowed time to prepare for their first formal meeting with the Citadel Council, citing "diplomatic concerns". Ludina could only imagine what those concerns must have been but she offered no arguement against them. The Council would understand, and would most likely welcome a chance to prepare for the historic meeting themselves.

"How long must we wait?" Admiral Vakarias almost demanded the answer.

"A week." Ludina replied curtly.

"A week!" Vakarias sounded offended. "They expect us to face off with their fleet for a _week_ whilst they try to organise a diplomatic team?"

"The Hiigarans will pull most of their fleet back to their side of the Relay and will leave only a token force on ourside. They have requested that I and a few others ships from different races remain here until they return and then escort them to the Citadel. They will not return with many ships."

"They're putting alot of trust in us." James added. Completely pulling back their fleet and only leaving a small guard force behind... the Hiigarans were taking quite a risk with their new found "friends".

"Then we'd better not squander it." Ludina answered immediately. It was true the Hiigarans were taking a massive risk, but she recognised an olive branch when she saw one. It was a test to see whether the Council races could be trusted to their word, whether they'd take advantage of the weakened Hiigaran force and attack the ships left behind or whether they'd stay true to their part of the bargain. Even if they kept their word, (which they would) she had no doubt the Salarian Special Tasks Group would still be all over the Hiigaran vessels as soon as they entered Citadel space as they attempted to find out everything they could about this new race and its technologies.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Admirals, I have a report to send back to the Citadel. The Council will be eager to learn of the developments out here and how best to prepare for our guests. I bid you fairwell."

* * *

><p>Such a gargantuan event could not be missed by someone in his position. His network spanned the entire galaxy, there was nothing that he missed. The sudden deployment of a Turian and then an Alliance fleet to the same quiet, empty sector of space in the Terminus Systems had piqued his intrest. As a dealer in a market where information was gold, he could not afford to miss out on such an obvious opportunity when it presented itself, especially when it promised to be big. The re-routing of Terminus System patrols to the same sector had drawn him closer and like a lion closing in on its prey he'd deployed his assets to the area in secret. A ship he controlled -not officially, obviously- had been dispatched, parading under the alias <em>MSV Concordia<em>. Aboard this freighter was no several hundred tonnes of refined ore as would appear to any ship that turned its sensors towards it. Instead, the _Concordia's_ cargo was something a little more precious: a state of the art sensors system and communications tapping array. As his contacts had predicted, the fools in the Council had not restricted shipping to the sector allowing the Concordia to slip in amongst the dozen or so civilian ships already there. With all the communications traffic between the council warships already present and with their attention already occupied, no one noticed as the Concordia listened in on the goings on.

What his risk had rewarded him with was beyond anything he had expected. A new race, Hiigaran, had made peaceful first contact with a combined Turian, Asari, Salarian and Alliance fleet. Arrangements were already being made for a delegation to be sent to the Citadel. Hiigaran warfleet: one hundred and two ships strong. Six dreadnoughts, one of them 1.8 kilometres bow to stern. No element zero trace detected in entire fleet. Thermal signatures so high they would be impossible to contain with current technology. Heavy use of strike craft. Unknown language. Apparent physical copy of Humanity: Homo Sapien.

This was a gold mine, a great find that would reward him well. There were organisation out there that would pay vast sums of credits or provide him with warhouse loads of resources for information like this. He immediately shifted his plans. He had to know more about this new race. How many ships did they have? How many planets? What technology did they possess if they did not rely on element zero? Did they have an alternative method of FTL? Were there other races like them? He would, in time and with the proper bribes, spies, bugs and investments, find the answer to all of those questions. He always did. He knew how it worked. And when he did, there were those that would pay dearly for this sort of information. Those that would have an intrest in this carbon copy of Humanity and their technology that was not based on element zero. Those that would not appreciate an insolant race deviating from their master plan.

For him, today, was going to be a very, very good day...

* * *

><p><em>There, I hope that was a good chapter for you to read. If there is anything that bugs you or anything you spotted, don't be afraid to tell me so I can change itfix it._

_Also, the reason I'm... reluctant to write a chapter from the perspective of Karan S'jet is because I don't really know how to write her as a character... so yeah, I avoid doing it rather than make a total mess of it._


	9. Chapter 9

_AN_

_Soz, accidently deleted Chapter 9, meant to update it. :p_

_This has been slightly re-written, mostly added a little description/re-worded some of Hussaiids POV. Will probably edit it a bit more like I did to chapter 5 (the bottom half of that chapter was massively re-written by the way)._

He grinned as his ships heavy forward guns tore open the guts of the rebel destroyer. Atmosphere exploded from the gaping wounds the heavy slugs had inflicted, long trails of debris gushing forth from the gashes in the ships hull like the lifeblood of some great creature. A half dozen missiles impacted along the crippled ships back, ripping off the dorsal kinetic gun and igniting the destroyers own fusion missiles in their launchers. The hull of the destroyer seemed to bend as it tried to contain the fury of its own arsenal, before it twisted and split in half. The explosion set off the destroyers reactor and the whole damned thing went up, the bridge viewports automatically polarising to protect himself and his crew from the flash. His grin, as impossible as it seemed, grew wider at the death of the rebel ship and all onboard.

"Bring us about." He ordered, marking another target on the CIC holo-screen. A damaged rebel missile frigate -it's yellow and brown hull covered in clan symbols- was keeping up a sustained bombardment on one his pack mates as they tore into a wounded battlecruiser. A single barrage from his ships four nose-mounted heavy guns was all it took to silence the frigate, its engines flickering on and off as escape pods fired from its warped hull. Gleefully he ordered the pods destroyed as his ship thundered past, plasma lance shots cracking their shells and flash frying the gods-damned bastards inside.

Five years ago he'd have never dared dream of this day. Five years ago it had felt like the rebels had had no end to their numbers. The amount of times he'd had to retreat like a dog before their assualts, trying to thin out what had seemed like an endless horde, whos only goal was to drag his people back into the old ways and undo all the progress they'd made under Makaans leadership. Makaan had made his people strong and these fools would have them peel back the advances they'd made for the sake of tradition. In the end, the rebels had been the first to shed the blood of the innocent. They'd burned worlds that they'd deemed too hard to take. Millions had perished at the hands of cowards and fools, brave warriors and defenceless civilians reduced to nothing by the most horrible of weapons whilst he'd watched, powerless to stop the armada laying waste to his very home.

Since then they'd rallied and rebuilt, entire fleets rising from the ashes. Bit by bloody bit they'd pushed the rebels back until the vermin were forced to flee to the darkest depths of the Reaches, dragging their poisonous ideals with them. There would be no peace, no chance for surrender. They would all burn like the people on his world. For five damned years he'd struggled against them, risking life and limb to end the people who'd taken everything from him. It was the will of Sajuuk that he'd made it this far intact.

In the end, their old ways were their undoing. Opting to live aboard their ships like in the old times made them easy targets. Clan after Clan, Crusade fleet after Crusade fleet, they were hunted down like the vermin they were and exterminated. Warships, Shipyards, Agricultural Vessels, Live Ships, everything was destroyed and left to burn and rot. It was justice for what they'd done, for what they'd taken from him.

Now they were left with one stronghold, one stronghold and they would be scattered to the wind, the old ways confined to the history books where they damn well belonged. It would be a devastating victory for the True Vaygr.

"Commander Patar!" His XO shouted out, prodding him with a slender finger, snapping him back to the battle at hand. His ship shook slightly to the impact of a dozen heavy slugs as an enemy cruiser -complete with flanking destroyers- bore down on his flanks.

"Orders, sir?" His shorter, younger, blonde headed and fairly nice looking XO enquired, placing a hand to her hip.

"Go evasive." He shouted, tapping a couple of icons on the holo-display. Two of the cruisers under his command instantly broke contact and were at his side in seconds, the combined fire from the two ships shattering one of the escorting rebel destroyers.

"Salvo our missile batteries," He continued as his ship accelerated. "rapid fire."

His cruiser rolled and dove, evading a barrage of slugs from the enemy cruiser and plunging through the chaos of two fleets engaging at point blank range, sometimes no more than a few kilometres apart The enemy cruisers engine bank flared as it moved to follow, ignoring his pack mates as they tore its escorts in half, fusion missiles streaming from its spinal mounted launcher. Plasma lance bolts from both his ship and two nearby frigates downed half the missiles but the remaining three impacted and his ships Hiigaran designed shields collapsed.

"Armour is at 95% on engineering deck 3." One of the command crew called. "Shields are down and recharging."

He shook his head slightly. They'd barely scratched the paint. "Bring us about, target their reactor. Let us end this little brawl."

His ship spun round on its axis, massive fusion torch engines firing as the 668 metre long cruiser turned to face its foe. The enemy cruiser was bearing down on them at flank speed, plasma lance lasers and burst guns lashing out at three allied missile corvettes as they slammed concussion missiles into its flanks as it slowed and dropped its nose to compensate for its preys sudden maneuver.

They were too slow.

"Fire!" He shouted, his ships heavy guns thundering in response as missiles leapt from their launchers and accelerated towards the enemy cruisers exposed belly. The kinetic slugs dropped the enemy vessels shields, one round going on to leave a deep crater in the ships thick armoured hide. Lance lasers flashed and six missiles became five, but those five were still enough to crack open the cruisers armoured belly and expose her lower decks to the cruel, cold darkness of space. He smiled in satisfaction as he watched shattered armour and hull snake away from the damaged rebel ship. The guns salvoed again, smashing through what little armour was left on the enemies underside, burrying themselves deep inside the cruisers guts. There was a flash and the ship split apart neatly, the lights flickering off in both halves as the power died, a cloud of debris forming around the shattered hulk like a pool of blood around a body. He'd slain another of his foes, another of the murderers gone, yet all he saw was the fires burning his family far below.

"Bring us out of here, take us to the flagship." He said suddenly as he tapped another icon on the holo-display, recalling the rest of his cruiser pack. His XO and his Helm officer looked uncertainly at each other before nodding at the same time and before long they were quickly accelerating away from the battle, his ship soaring past and through the shattered forms of perhaps hundreds of warships, both allied and not. The entire sector was now a graveyard, a monument to the madness that had consumed his people.

Admiral Hakkane's flagship stood at the heart of an eighty ship strong formation that was sitting far from the current fight against the retreating bulk of the rebel fleet. The Admirals fleet was laying waste to their fortress -Hal Vashir- plasma bolts, missiles and kinetic slugs slamming into the stations crumbling armoured form. The weaponry emplacements that had covered the station were now slagged and charred, the entire structure coming apart and falling away under the sustained fire of an entire fleet. Dozens of rebel ships had been destroyed at their docks, and the space around the station was filled with the remains of both mobile and immobile shipyards, agricultural vessels and scores of small cargo barges.

"Sir?" His XO enquired tentatively as she appeared in the left corner of his vision.

"I need to see this." He whispered, staring out the bridge viewports at the massive structure. The station was huge, visible even as he and the remains of his cruiser pack sat immobile one hundred kilometres away. This was it, this was the end for the scum who'd taken his kin from him.

His XO became quiet as she too joined him in watching the station as it imploded, removing itself from the face of reality. A flash, so bright, like a sun being born -warning tones sounding across the bridge- and then nothing, only the tiniest pieces of molten debris left as a remainder of the three kilometre tall station that had once existed here. The rebels last stronghold was gone. Destroyed. Annihilated. He should _feel _something.

"That's it." He breathed as the light faded away to darkness, shattering the awed silence that had overcome his bridge. His next words should have been triumphant and loud but instead they came out lame and tired. Five years of brutal civil war had finally ended. The rebels would never recover from this defeat, he had played his part in their downfall, he had his revenge... and he felt _nothing_.

"It's over. We have won."

* * *

><p>Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid awoke with a start, his body, his thin naval issue cover and his cot drenched with sweat. His eyes strained against the brightness of the overhead light as it came on automatically, his mind still reeling from memories he'd tried so hard to cover up and forget.<p>

"Damn." He whispered as he slowly sat upright. His hands were shaking. "_Damn_."

Slowly, carefully, he began to trace the faded tear of the shrapnel wound running down the right hand side of his face, from the tip of his ear all the way down to his jawline: both it and his artificial right eye a parting gift from Makaan's Elite Guard during the dieing throes of the Vaygr War. With a wince he drew his hand away from the scar, forcing away the images filling his head, burying yet another fresh reminder of his helplessness, the burning, _agonising_ pain... and the blank faces of those who hadn't been quite as lucky as him.

Hussaiid rubbed his eyes. The Vaygr War -and the cycle of seemingly endless hate fuelled conflict that had followed it's conclusion- had left him with far more than just physical scars. Thirty or so years of on and off fighting as a member of a dozen different fleets had left him with quite a number of former friends, all of whom had a nasty habit of visiting him every now and again in his late-night dreams.

Most of the time he simply tried his hardest just to forget them all.

"Pull yourself together, Nirrhan." He whispered through clenched teeth, his voice coming out hoarser than he'd expected, his eyes staring down the neatly folded uniform sitting on his desk at the otherside of the small room. "People depend on you, you fool. You've had nightmares before. You can't sit and feel sorry for yourself."

Ten minutes later and he was dressed and presentable, walking briskly towards the bridge of his flagship, his footsteps echoing off the solid metal floor, unpleasant memories already buried and forgotten. The two hardsuited marines standing guard outside snapped him a crisp salute as he strode past them, the armoured security bulkhead sliding open with a _hiss_ as he returned a slightly less enthusiastic salute of his own before stepping through.

The _Koshiir-Ra's _bridge was -as always- a hub of frantic but ordered activity. The command crew were sat working away at their consoles or stations, talking quietly amongst themselves as they went, their faces illuminated by their displays in the bridges dimmed lighting. The CnC tactical holographic display towards the rear of the bridge was humming away, a gigantic, semi-transparent map of the surrounding sector -complete with icon representations of every known contact in a forty-five thousand kilometre radius- floating above it. Several senior bridge officers were also gathered around it, monitoring the positions and activites of the 6th fleets many vessels.

It was a familiar scene, one he'd walked in on a thousand times before.

"Captain Kel!" Hussaiid called, quickly glancing at the tactical display as he walked past, noting a large group of friendly contacts that hadn't been there when he'd left the bridge several hours earlier. "I've got the bridge. You can go and get yourself some rest."

"Yes sir!" His second in command -a broad shouldered, dark headed and tanned member of Kiith Nabaal- replied gratefully as he turned to head towards the door, only to stop and turn back to face Hussaiid after two steps. "Oh, sir, I almost forgot. The 3rd fleet arrived a few hours ago and Admiral Soban has been asking for you to get in contact with him as soon as you are able."

"Very well." Hussaiid nodded in reply, waving his XO away, his expression neutral even as his mind was racing. Admiral Hiirahn Soban was an intresting individual. He was a brilliant tactician, a veteran of the Vaygr War like a good majority of the Navy's senior command staff. A good career and very good ties with his Kiith gave him influence that was almost above his station, with many considering him one of the most influential members of the Hiigaran navy. However, his command style could be best described as... _aggressive_ and he was an outspoken critic of the Daiamids soft -as he put it- approach to dealing with threats on Hiigara's borders. Despite his prowess, he would certainly not have been Hussaiids first choice to be present in a situation that was as fragile as this.

_'Fragile.'_ He smiled slightly. _'That described First Contact and everything that had come after it very well indeed.'_

Hussaiid shook his head slowly, glancing out beyond the bridge's armoured viewports, out at the sleek, curved, double-hulled form of the "_Mass Relay_" (as the aliens had labelled it in their first contact package) floating serenely a mere sixty kilometres before his flagship, it's silver hull plating standing out proudly against the dingy brown gloom of the surrounding dust, the great blue core glowing bright like a sort of beacon in the dark, two supportless rings spinning endlessly and tirelessly around it. A pair of sleek, frigate-sized science vessels adorned with the colours and sigil of Kiith S'jet were holding position side by side literally metres from the surface of its hull, pressed in as close as they dared get in order to avoid a collision with any ships transitioning through from the otherside.

"Communications. Contact the _Angel Moon_, 3rd fleet flagship." The communications officer nodded, obediently tapping commands into his console. Hussaiid's eyes, however, remained fixed on the foreign construct looming before him. A week ago he and his fleet had ventured through that _thing_ into the unknown. He'd stopped a war. The aliens, the council warships he'd faced, had given him more than enough reason to attack: their incomprehensible and unprovoked electronic assualt on the battlecruiser _Guardian_ could have easily been the spark igniting an inter-galactic war... but he'd refused to fire. Hiigara had seen enough bloodshed, and the attack had turned out to be a mistake... of sorts. The Alien -the _Asari_- he'd spoken briefly with (though over an audio only channel, it had been the Ambassador who'd had the pleasure of speaking face to face) had done her best to make that clear enough to him and -whilst he'd still been angry (at their stupidity if nothing else)- he'd dropped the matter. The politicians could sort out the finer details later if they wished. He wasn't a trained diplomat. It wasn't his job to argue with aliens.

But it _was_ his job to defend Hiigara from any and all outside threats. And -until the diplomatic party had finally met the alien council face-to-face and the Daiamid had informed him otherwise- those threats included the multiple nations and races sitting on the otherside of that "Relay". Fleet Command agreed with his sentiment and had been drip feeding reinforcements into the area until the force guarding the "Relay" now numbered in at just over two hundred ships, including a mobile shipyard (humorously named _Ponderous_) and a dozen automated anti-fighter and anti-frigate gun platforms. The 3rd fleets sudden arrival added almost another hundred vessels to that number. The sheer number of ships present, combined with the natural chokepoint the "Relay" created, meant that any assault from the otherside would be a bloody, bloody battle for the attacker.

"The _Angel Moon_ is responding, sir." The communications officer suddenly said, interrupting Hussaiids train of thought. "Shall I put it on the main screen?"

"Yes, do that." Hussaiid replied curtly, turning and heading back towards the bridges main holographic display as a translucent, scale image of the 3rd fleets commanding officer appeared on the vid screen. Admiral Hiirahn Soban was not a pretty man. His face was thin and guant, with a hawkish nose and thick, bushy eyebrows, set over thin lips that gave the man an unsettling smile. He was dressed in the same blue and white uniform as Hussaiid, though Sobans peaked cap and shoulders bore the 3rd fleets hollow hexagonal insignia rather than the proud, golden shield of 6th fleet.

"Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid." Admiral Soban greeted in his characteristically loud voice, his features twisted as he regarded Hussaiid with a look that was part respect, part annoyance. "I was actually beginning to wonder whether you were intentionally ignoring me."

"Admiral Hiirahn Soban." Hussaiid replied with a slight nod, unsure how he was supposed to take that little remark. After a three second long internal debate, he settled upon sincerity. "I apologise for my lateness. I was unaware that the 3rd fleet would be joining us out here."

"That's to be expected." Admiral Soban answered bluntly, folding his thin arms across his chest. "Your absence from the Daiamid Assembly was..." He paused momentarily, searching for the right word. "..._unfourtunate_, but unavoidable due to the circumstances. The information presented in your report was very informative, but certain parts caused quite a controversy."

"Please tell." Hussaiid remarked dryly, already knowing what to expect. "I assume it has something to do with your fleets presence here."

"It has everything to do with it." Admiral Soban replied, his face suddenly becoming alot sterner, his arms still crossed across his chest. "The attack on the _Guardian_ highlighted the fear that many amongst the Daiamid already had, that these 'Aliens' might attack us without provocation. As a precaution the Council decided that the 3rd would be deployed to bolster defences here incase the coming talks breakdown or these Aliens decide to push their luck once more."

"Let us hope that this precaution is not needed." Hussaiid replied. He already knew why the 3rd had been picked over the multitude of other fleets that could have been sent in its place. Admiral Sobans close ties with the current Soban-sa was a well known secret amongst higher circles of the Navy. With the influence Soban wielded amongst his own Kiith it was little wonder that the 3rd had been the force picked for this task and it annoyed Hussaiid immensely.

Admiral Soban, oblivious to his thoughts, hesitantly nodded his agreement with Hussaiids words.

"We will just have to see." The Sobani Admiral said after a moments pause. "The Ambassadorial force will arrive in a few hours. Sajuuk knows what the outcome of this meeting will be."

"The Ambassador, who is it that the Daiamid elected to send?" Hussaiid asked.

"Ambassador Arla Vasaan, of Kiith S'jet." Admiral Soban answered quickly, watching through curious eyes as Hussaiid nodded his head slightly in recognition of the name. "She's an interesting woman. If I remember right, you have both already met."

"Yes, we have, though I would not say we are well acquainted." Hussaiid replied. Arla Vasaan had been the ambassador attached to his fleet when they'd first jumped through the Relay. She had handled the whole debacle with the Alien fleet admirably and it came as no real surprise that she had been the one chosen by the Daiamid to represent the Hiigaran people in their first meeting with the Alien Council. However, he had spoken little to her when she was aboard his flagship. He had simply seen no need, having been pre-occupied with more pressing concerns, such as organising and commanding his fleet. He had therefore kept his interactions with her to the most basic of pleasantries.

"We spoke, briefly." He continued after a seconds pause. "Formal introductions and such, you know how it can be sometimes." Admiral Soban nodded his head slightly, indicating his understanding."

"I am, however, not surprised the Daiamid picked her." Hussaiid continued. "Though I have a feeling her being of Kiith S'jet is no coincidence."

Admiral Sobans face soured.

"Obviously. The Ambassador had the backing of Karan S'jet herself." Admiral Soban replied, completely blind to the irony of his own words much to Hussaiids amusement. "Whilst Arla Vasaan has first hand experience in dealing with these _Aliens_, there are more... _capable_ -shall we say- Councillors or Diplomats who could have been sent in her place. However, once S'jet has had her say, there are very few amongst the Council who will dare speak against her."

"_With good reason. When has Karan ever been wrong?_" Hussaiid thought quietly to himself, before opting for a less confrontational response. "The Ambassador has already proven her worth during last weeks events. I am sure she will handle this meeting just fine."

"Such belief in a person you barely even know." Admiral Soban replied smugly, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. Hussaiid bristled but said nothing.

"In the end we just have to wait and see." Admiral Soban continued briskly. "I just hope S'jet has not chosen wrongly."

Hussaiid nodded politely, desperate for this line of conversation to end.

"The Republicans have also elected to send an Ambassador." Admiral Soban went on after Hussaiids moment of silence. "However, they have not told us who."

"I'm surprised they decided to send anyone at all." Hussaiid added, frowning as he recalled some of the worrying reports he'd read over the past few days. The Taiidan Republic was suffering from a rash of pro-Imperialist demonstrations, violent riots and even bombings on their colonies in their Northern territories, the worlds bordering territory held by the Imperial Remnants. The bombings -mostly directed against government buildings- had claimed dozens of lives and Republican security forces were locked in brutal running street battles against rioters. Adding to the turmoil, the Imperial Navy itself had begun launching raids into Republic territory in recent days, raids that the over-stretched Republican navy were being hard pressed to contain. "Considering the issues they've been having over the past couple weeks."

"I was equally surprised. But they are sending an Ambassador and two or three ships."

"Anyhow, I assume you also haven't heard about Admiral, or -more precisely- Ex-Admiral Rahn Elso?" Admiral Soban began after a moments pause as he quickly scanned the contents of a datapad handed to him by an off-screen subordinate.

"Suprisingly that is one of the few things I have heard." Hussaiid replied with a slight grin. Alesha Nabaal -having been stripped of all of her power by her disgraced father and having also lost her place on the Council- had willingly supplied Kiith Kaalels intelligence agents with everything they'd needed to arrest Elso on charges of corruption and to hit the two Cruiser Captains that had also been involved with lesser charges. The Captains were to be suspended and demoted but would keep their jobs. Admiral Elso would not. "I'm surprised that he managed to stay sober for his own hearing."

"He is a disgrace." Admiral Soban almost spat, his eyebrows furrowing into a fearsome scowl. "Accepting bribes from the Nabaal-sa's jumped up daughter. He has damaged the Navy's reputation and honour with his actions. He is a drunken fool and deserves his punishment, though -admittedly- were it not for his brash actions we would never have found this "Relay" thing." He finished, gesturing towards said object off-screen.

"That is true." Hussaiid agreed. "His idiocy atleast accomplished some good."

"Is it really a good thing though?" Admiral Soban interjected, gesturing towards Hussaiid with his right hand. "Finding this "Relay" has brought us the very real threat of another war, has tied up fleet resources and has played its part in the destabilisation of the relative political calm of the last couple years, though the destruction of the Galactic Council played an obviously bigger part. Even if we avoid war it still brings another three or four players, perhaps more, to an already shakey, hate-filled political scene. So, I ask again, is it really a good thing?"

"It is like all things, Admiral." Hussaiid began after a moments pause to consider his fellow Admirals words. "Perhaps it will turnout as you say, a war and instability. Perhaps, on the other hand, it will give us a chance to expand, a chance for us to make friends and allies. You and I cannot predict what will happen. We just need to hope for the best, see how it turns out and then clean up the mess if it all falls apart."

_AN_

_I am aware that this is not the greatest chapter in this story, I will attempt to touch it up though._

_Will probably begin working on Chapter 10 soon-ish(tm)_


End file.
